Reaction
by kashkow
Summary: My first published fanfic, done over three years ago. This is an episode tagAU. It is rough and unbetaed so there is no one to blame but me. I hope you enjoy


_**Authors Note**__: Takes place after the episode where the Admiral and Chip are told that the imposter aboard is pretending to be Crane, I can't recall the episode name (help me!). I have always thought it all blew over a little too happily. I have ruthlessly lifted and twisted many of the plots from the series, and as you may guess, have been equally ruthless with timelines. Never let reality, even TV reality, stand in the way of a good plot bunny. I have tried to keep the science as real as possible however. Some things you just don't mess with. This is a first attempt at fan fiction. Be kind when you think of me._

Reaction by kashkow 

**Prologue- Episode + 1 Day**

Lee Crane sat on the rocky headland that jutted to the north of the Nelson Institute. He sat on the very edge of cliff; his back against the worn gray rocks, not paying any attention to the light mist that fell from the black rain heavy clouds above. The latest in a series of storms, a 'pineapple express' was dropping inches of rain all through out California, and the normally sunny Santa Barbara was no exception. Actually he was rather in tune with the weather, gray and gloomy. That was why he was here, perched above the pounding surf, in the rain, contemplating… Well it wasn't so much contemplating as questioning.

"Why didn't they know it was really me? We've had imposters on _Seaview_ before, and we always worked it out, together. No secrets, no testing. Why didn't anyone ask any questions?" He had known Chip since Annapolis, and the Admiral since not long after. Chip was his best friend, the Admiral was… He shied away from the thought of what he felt about the Admiral. They knew him better than anyone else, better than his own mother. Even O.N.I. knew him. There were a lot of things he knew that never went into a report anywhere. Surely he had earned a little benefit of the doubt from them over the years? There was only so many things any imposter could know, a few simple questions…

Didn't anyone think to check the source of the information? Who had given the Navy this nugget of information? Obviously they were not reliable. Didn't O.N.I. vet their sources? A great confidence builder for agents like himself who had to operate in the field with this kind of information gathering.

It all came down to one thing in his mind. No one had cared enough to check any further. Crane is an imposter? Okay! We'll just make sure his life is hell until he cracks! No one had asked, no one had known, no one had checked... no one had cared. That was what had him out on the rocks, watching the waves. No one had cared.

He tightened his arms around his knees, shivering slightly in the soggy sweat suit he wore. He turned his head to the south, his eyes falling on the gray shape of _Seaview_ at her dock.

_My Silver Lady_, he thought. She was the only one who knew. She knew who he was, what he was. No imposter could ever have that connection with her that he did, and he was going to have to give it up. It would be like tearing off his arm, or ripping out his heart.

He couldn't stay. That was clear. He had misunderstood once again. He had thought he had found the perfect family, just like before with the Cranes. And again he was wrong. For the Cranes he had been a stand in, a replacement for the children that had never come. A child for hire, treated _correctly_, but never loved. And now, here at the Institute he had found what he thought was family. His best friend, too long a distant someone to greet at senior staff meetings, and then the Admiral... Once again he shied away. It was stupid to even think it. He had overstepped his bounds again. He wasn't family. He was only the Captain. The best man for the job, like the best supplies, or the best instruments._Seaview_ deserved the best, he agreed with that, and he was the best. He could blame them for simply doing what he would do for the boat. He wouldn't blame them.

He blinked the water from his eyes, telling himself it was just rain. His heart ached. It was too much. Why did _he_ always have to be the one to go? Why did _he_ always have to be the one to give up something? Didn't _he_ ever get a break? He had been _happy_, damn it! He loved his boat, his crew, and his friends. He sighed.

"Enough of this feeling sorry for yourself, Crane," he thought. He pulled himself to his feet. A tall, slim figure in a dark blue sweat suit, made even darker by the rain. "You have things to do, no use putting them off." He cast one more look at _his_ boat. No matter where he was, no matter who was chosen to be her new captain, she would always be _his_ boat. He turned and made his way down the rocky path toward the road where his red convertible, its black top on, waited. It was time to go.

**  
Prologue- part 2**

"Admiral, I need to talk to you." Chip Morton poked his head into the Admiral's office and spoke to the man behind the desk. His blond hair was mussed as if he had run a hand through it several times, and his face was flushed as if he had been running, or yelling at an unfortunate seaman.

Admiral Harriman Nelson, Founder, and head of the Nelson Institute of Marine Research, millionaire, and certified Nobel prize winning genius, looked up from the never-ending reports on his desk. The more he delegated, the more there seemed to be. His own auburn hair was slightly mussed and his own usually sharp blue eyes were slightly dull from too much reading. He set back in the big leather chair, letting the green bar report fall back to the cluttered desktop. "Good," he said rubbing his eyes, " I can use the break." He stretched, and looked closely at Chip as the younger man, the Executive Office of Nelson's personal submarine, _Seaview_, sat in one of the two chairs before the big desk.

"You look upset," he said, with a small smile. "Don't tell me the supplies order didn't show up again?" He joked gently, remembering how he had happened to overhear Morton's phone call yesterday to a supplier who had failed to meet the requested delivery date. There was no doubt in his mind that the supplier had not only delivered the supplies, but ha also probably given them a large discount to make Morton happy. After that tongue lashing, they would have been smarting for sure.

Chip did not return the smile, instead he perched on the edge of the chair, and his own blue eyes were dark. He gave a quick shake of his head, and waved the question away, "No, No, we got that done. Have you seen Lee since we got back?" He met Nelson's eyes, and the Admiral found himself sitting forward as well, an almost painful feeling blooming into his stomach.

"No. He was taking a few days off, per orders. He got beaten around pretty good during the last cruise…" He broke off, once again feeling regret for his part in the fiasco of the last cruise. He should have questioned the orders further. He should have known.

"He's gone." The bald-faced statement, delivered in a deadpan tone, cut through Nelson's self-recrimination.

"What?" He stood up, his compact frame ramrod straight. "What do you mean gone? Gone where? We're scheduled to sail in 2 days. If he's gone off on an O.N.I. Mission I'll skin Smith!" He started to reach for the phone.

"No, I mean he's left. The boat, the Institute, hell, the city!" Chip threw a crumpled envelope onto the cluttered desk. Nelson started at it for a moment as if the envelope might leap on him and bite. Then he reached for it and drew out the single slip of paper inside. He read the easily recognizable scrawl of his captain.

_Chip,_

_I am sorry to do this in this way. I know you deserve more, and I hope eventually you'll forgive me for taking the coward's way out. It has become evident to me that I do not belong at the Institute. The choices I have made in the past, and continue to make in the present, have made me an unacceptable security risk, and a less than perfect fit for the job of Captain. Seaview, and her crew, deserve more. They deserve someone who is above suspicion, who is there all the time, with no divided loyalties to be questioned. _

_I know that you will protest this assertion, but stop and think about what I am saying. Think about what just happened. Please don't think I am bitter about it, and am making some kind of grand gesture to make everyone feel bad, it's not about that. It's about what's best for the boat. Think about how easily you believed what the Navy said. Was it hard for you to believe that such a thing could happen to me, that I could be replaced so easily? And, once you believed it, did you not take the steps necessary to protect the boat and the crew from what you saw as a threat, even if it was a person you saw as your friend you were protecting them from? You may not have liked it, my friend, but you were very effective. You questioned, but only to a degree, then you acted. And it is in that lack of hesitation that you have to see what I mean. If you, knowing me as you do, having been my friend for so long, could not tell it was me, and not some look alike intruder, then I am a security risk the boat can not afford._

_I leave her in your hands. I know you love her like I do, and will take care of her and the crew. Be the captain, it's all there in you. You can do it. _

_I have left a letter for the Admiral in his office. I wouldn't leave you to clean up my messes, at least not all of them. I have also sent my resignation to the Navy and O.N.I. I can hear you now, swearing a blue streak. Here I finally quit O.N.I., and you don't get to gloat about it. Sorry again. Don't look for me, you won't find me. I have gotten very good, it seems, at being who I am not, I even fooled myself for a time. I think it is time for me to go and find ME. Maybe when I do, you'll still like that Lee Crane. I hope so._

_Yours truly,  
Lee _

Nelson looked up into Chip's angry eyes. He dropped the letter on his desk and reached for his in-box.

"Angie dropped a bunch of mail into the box when she brought in these reports. I didn't get to look through it yet." He discarded various envelopes until he came to a plain white envelope addressed in the familiar hand. "Damn, I was almost hoping it wouldn't be here" He tore the envelope open, ignoring the letter opener lying beside the inbox. He pulled out two sheets of paper. One he glanced at quickly then dropped to the desk, he turned his attention to the other.

_Harry,_

_I am sorry that I do not have the courage to give you this in person. I know that I owe you at least that, for all the kindness you have shown me over the years, if for no other reason. Your help and support through the years are a gift I cannot repay. Please do not think that I do not appreciate all that you have done for me, and I hope that in some way the last few years I have made some headway in paying you back. _

_As I have told Chip, don't think that my resignation is in any way some kind of revenge for the last cruise. The circumstances of that cruise only served to bring forth a serious flaw in my thinking. I am a danger to Seaview. One you, the crew, and the Institute cannot afford. That being the case I have done what I think you would expect of me as the Captain of your boat, and an employee of your Institute. I have taken the necessary steps to nullify that threat._

_I have also forwarded my resignation to the Navy and O.N.I. No matter what I might do for them, I would still be suspect, still be a risk to whatever boat I might command, or mission I might undertake. I will not put others at risk._

_I know that you will understand that I have done what is best for everyone concerned. You have never been one to accept less than the best, and that is what you deserve._

_I told Chip not to look for me. I also ask you the same. It would be a waste of resources. You, and the Navy have trained me well. Another debt I owe. Think of me kindly Harry; I would like to at least leave with that._

_Yours,  
Lee_

Nelson sat for a moment staring at the sheet, and then passed it across the desk to Chip. After reading it quickly the other man tossed it on the desk with the other pages, and sat back in his chair.

"I went to his apartment," Chip said, his face expressionless. "He packed up everything, he had the manager of the complex put it all in storage including his car. Paid for a year in advance. The manager says he left yesterday, with one duffle bag. He just walked away from the apartment building, and that was it. No more Lee Crane." His fist pounded the chair arm, hard. Chip launched himself out of the chair and started to pace. The normally calm, and cool XO was livid. "Damn him! How could he do this, WHY would he do this? All that crap about being a security risk, and how I should understand." He paced back the other direction, pausing the turn to pound one fist on the wall. "Well I don't understand, what the hell was he thinking?" He tossed off the question to Nelson, and came to a stop facing the older man, his tirade faded as he really looked at Nelson.

The Admiral was sitting back in his chair, his face pale under the tan. His eyes were stunned, and Chip had a feeling that he had not heard a single word of his rant. He moved back toward the desk in concern. As close as he and Lee were, or as close as he had thought that they were, there was something more between the Admiral and Lee. Friend, brother… son. It was never spoken, but Chip knew it was reciprocated, strongly. As bad as he, Chip, felt, and he felt like someone had punched him in the heart, Nelson must have been feeling worse.

"Admiral, I…"

Nelson raised a hand, stopping the statement and Chips movement forward. Some color was returning to his face, and purpose to his eyes.

"He's right you know, he is a security risk." The words were flat, with no emotion. "I've always known that his work with O.N.I opened him up to possible security problems. I was prepared to deal with that, I just never took it far enough, I never let _him_ know what steps I had taken, and I didn't think about what _he_ would do in the case of a breach. I underestimated his response." He got up, and moved to the window, looking out at where the _Seaview_ rode the swell at her mooring. There was a pause in the ever-present rain, and a single finger of sunlight fell on the boat and dock. As always as he looked at his creation he felt the thrill of her, the gut level pleasure in her very existence. He placed one hand against the window, almost as if reaching for the boat. "He also has a point about what happened. Why didn't we question the orders further? Why didn't we just test him? Jamie could have come up with an excuse for blood tests, lord knows he has had to maneuver for yearly checkups and physical before and he could have done it for this. We could have asked questions that only Lee could have known the answer to. We know him that well. But, we didn't. We also knew it was all possible, and we went with that instead." The hand on the window drew into a fist.

"He said he didn't blame us, do you think he really does?" Chip said, moving to stand at the window, his gaze also drawn to the long, gray shape below. It hurt him to think that his actions might have driven off his best friend.

"No." A definite finality was in Nelson's voice. "He doesn't blame us, he blames himself. That's where I made my mistake. When everything was done, I knew he understood why we had done what we did, for the safety of the boat, the crew, and the country. What I didn't count on was his view of it all. I should have known that. I knew that." He looked at Chip. "You know about his adopted parents?"

Chip nodded, and turned his eyes to the Admiral. "The first people that I ever actively hated, without ever meeting them. The things those people did to Lee in the name of 'family'. You think this is part of that mess?"

Nelson nodded. "Yes, they were the ones that planted the seed, but his service with O.N.I. has only made it worse. They make it clear to all their operatives in not so subtle ways that they are only there as long as they are useful. When they become a liability, that's it. So, he was adopted because they needed a child to make their life "perfect", but with no emotional investment, and when he didn't do what they wanted him to do they cut off what little attention they had given him. Then O.N.I. sends him places no sane person would be, and leave him to his own devices when things go wrong. The only reason he's survived is his own cussed determination. And then there was me…"

"What do you mean?" Chip said. "You didn't just use him, he knew that."

"Did he?" Nelson said. He shifted his gaze back to _Seaview_. "Or did he just think that I got the best captain for the job, who was expendable when things got sticky?" He ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair, mussing it. "It's all he's known since he was five, and before that he was on the streets, or in some hell of a foster home. He doesn't have a very good experience with people wanting him for himself, only for what he can do for them."

He strode back to his desk, sat down in the chair, and reached for the phone. "Well this time it's not going to end with him going off and making his life over again." He snatched the phone up. "Angie, get me Admiral Jones at O.N.I." He looked up at Chip. "Get a picture of him, go to the bus stations, airport, wherever you can think of. Use as many of the crew as you need." He turned his eyes back to the phone as he was connected. "Jonesie? It's Nelson. Did you get Crane's resignation today? You did, well what are you planning on doing about it?"

At that point, Chip made his escape from the room, somehow reassured. His friend was gone, but the Admiral was hot on his trail, and what the Admiral wanted, he usually got.

**Prologue-part 3**

Kowalski pushed out through the doors of the bus station. He had shown the Skipper's picture to everyone from the ticket sellers to the smelly guy sleeping on the bench in the back. No one had seen him. Kowalski looked up and down the sidewalk looking for the Chief. They had split up to cover the area better, but so far everyone had come up blank. They had been working all the bus and train stations, and the airport since yesterday when the XO had routed them out of stowing supplies for another duty.

To say that they had been surprised at what the XO had said would be an understatement. Kowalski would have bet good money that you couldn't pry the Skipper out of his ship with anything less than an atomic explosion. But then, the XO had said that the Skipper felt he was compromising the boat, and that clicked for Kowalski. The only reason the Skipper would leave her would be to save her.

"Damn it Skipper, where'd ya go?" He mumbled to himself, still scanning the street for the Chief. He really _liked_ his young captain. Not something he had ever expected to say about a superior officer. He had nothing but respect for the original captain of the _Seaview_, John Phillips, killed two years ago, but the Skipper... he was different. There was just something about him, something that made you want to give your best, and even more. And you enjoyed doing it. Ski had come to the conclusion that it had to be the Skipper's drive and dedication rubbing off. He rubbed his jaw, and smiled to himself. Yeah, the Skipper had definitely rubbed off on him, right from the first. He wasn't prepared to go back to the old way. If he was going out to run into giant seaweed and freaky aliens, Ski wanted the Skipper there to see that everyone came home.

He saw the Chief pushing his way through the crowd, the hunch of his burly shoulders told Ski everything he needed to know before the man spoke.

"Nothin'. You get anything?" At Ski's negative he continued. "Let's get back to the Institute, maybe someone else has had some luck." They moved off towards the chief's car. He looked at Ski's hangdog look, and faked a smile. "Hey now, buck up! The Admiral ain't gonna let the Skipper get away like this, he'll track him down. How hard can it be to find someone like the Skipper?"

_Damn hard, if he don't want to be found_, Ski thought to himself. He had nothing but complete faith that if his Skipper wanted to disappear, then that is exactly what he would do. He kept that though to himself too.

**Chapter 1- Two months later**

The man who had called himself Lee Crane straightened from where he was coiling rope on the rear of the tender craft on which he was now a member of the crew. Instead of the khakis that he had become so used to wearing he was now clad in jeans and an old ratty brown sweater. He wore a watch cap pulled down over the curly hair he had allowed to grow out. He hadn't had it this long since before he left for Annapolis, he wasn't really used to it yet, and he tended to keep it hidden under the cap. It especially bothered him when Greta, the ship's German cook, easily 20 years his senior, told him she longed to run her hands through the luxuriant curls. He could feel the blush rising on his cheeks even as he thought about it. He didn't encourage her, but the woman, large of frame, and heart, was too nice for him to brush off, and so he endured. He let his eyes quarter the horizon, still getting used to traveling the sea on the surface. He really hated ships, he had even had a slight bout of seasickness when he had first come aboard, but had swiftly gotten over the symptoms as he gained his "sea legs". The only thing that kept him from jumping ship at the next port was the opportunity to go down in the submersible that the tender served. He swung his gaze to the 40-foot long submersible swinging in its cradle above the ship's split deck.

His ever so slightly forged papers had rated him as an expert pilot of the small research vessels called D.S.R.V. for Deep Sea Research Vessels. And in this case it was true. The designer of the _Anemone_ was none other than Harriman Nelson, and a close look at the original log of the small craft would show that her first test crew had consisted of one Commander L. B. Crane as Pilot. It wasn't _Seaview_, it wasn't even the old Sea Wolf class attack sub that he had commanded in the Navy, but it took him to the only place he felt truly at home, the deep sea. He need not worry about being recognized among the crew of the tender or submersible. He was the only American aboard the German research vessel. His German, one of his first foreign languages, stood him in good stead, and he had blended nicely with the crew. He had been a godsend to the Harwich Research Center, and he had exploited their need to make his "getaway" as quickly as possible. He had also been lucky. He had in his possession papers for one Lee Cosigian. An Armenian/American who had worked for Woods Hole in Massachusetts, and for several private companies as a submersible pilot and master diver. A cover that had gone unused on a year old O.N.I. case, he had forgotten about them until he had seen the ad and had started building from there. He had checked on the computer to see if the identity was still valid, a check that could not be traced. The references were still good, and O.N.I. would have discarded the unused Id information after the completion of the mission. Never to be reused. Very efficient, and very useful. He had seen the ad in the latest _Diving_ magazine looking for a qualified diver who could start immediately, as an accident had disabled the regular man for Harwich one month before an important dive off the Vladivostok peninsula. The short northern summer would not allow for the regular man's recovery time, the Center was working on a shoestring budget, and without a pilot and master diver, the expedition would have to be cancelled. When Lee had faxed the fake papers to Harwich they had practically begged him to come. He'd had them send his tickets to the airport in Denver, and then had hitchhiked from Santa Barbara to Denver, first heading North to Seattle, Washington, and then east through Idaho, Montana, and Wyoming, then down into Colorado. The trip had been cold, and lonely. The truckers whom he had gotten rides with were happy enough with the company over the long miles, but Lee missed everything he had left behind.

Arriving in Denver in the middle of a snowstorm, he had fretted that the plane would be delayed, but the luck that had been with him with the ad held. His was the last plane out before the airport closed, and Lee Cosigian was born, complete with passport, work history, even a fake family history for chatting about to add color to the story. He had everything he needed to be someone else, everything but one thing. He didn't _want_ to be someone else. He wanted to be Lee Crane. He wanted to be Captain of the _Seaview_, Chip Morton's best friend, and Harriman Nelson's… He still couldn't allow himself to think about what he had lost there. Chip, the boat, the crew, that was bad enough, but the Admiral. He tried not to even think about it.

He turned as he heard someone approaching along the deck, still not easy with the others. They weren't _his_ crew. It was Dieter Knopf, head of the expedition, and chief scientist aboard.

"You know, " Knopf said in his accented English, squinting into the biting wind, "We pay deck hands to take care of the ropes and cables. We do not expect you to take care of everything, only to pilot." He was an older man, in his late fifties/early sixties. He had the deep tan of a man who spent many months of the year at sea. He was a marine geologist specializing in subduction zone geology, and specifically the hot water vents that were found in those areas where the massive oceanic plates dove beneath the lighter, more buoyant, landmasses. He had been one of the original discoverers of the "black smokers", where the sulfur-mineral enriched, super heated water poured from "chimneys" made from their own mineral deposits. He had seen the huge worms that made their home there in the depths of the ocean away from any light source, which fed on the plankton that in turn fed on the mineral enriched waters. The huge white blind crabs that scuttled around the tall worm columns had been seen for the first time on that expedition. All things that weren't supposed to be possible, which were not only possible, but thriving. Lee had seen a black smoker for himself in the Institute's diving Bell, at a depth below what the _Anemone_ could aspire to. Not that he could mention that, but he had enjoyed the discussions he had had with Knopf. Listening to the man's enthusiasm for the science made him feel at home for a few moments, until he looked up to see not the blue eyes of Harriman Nelson, but instead the brown eyes of Knopf. It was like being punched in the solar plexus.

He would have been shocked to know that Knopf had noticed the pain in the eyes of the younger man during their first long discussion. At first he had though that his grasp of English had failed him, and he had made an offensive comment, but then the pain he had seen faded back to the shadow of sadness that Knopf realized always lurked in the sharp amber gaze of the younger man. He had come to like Lee Cosigin very well in the last month. He was very good at his job, took no chances with his equipment, or the lives of his fellow divers. He was unfailing conscientious when it came to safety concerns, and he had a very old fashioned way with the three women on board. He hid a smile as he thought of Greta's teasing of the younger man about his hair. Even Knopf had to admit the Cosigian was a handsome young man. But he didn't seem to notice it. The women, all happily married, and all at least ten years Cosigian's senior, toggled between swooning over him and trying to mother him. Knopf had caught the younger man washing down the submersible one day, muttering under his breath about not being able to get away from the "mother hens" no matter where he went, and that he wasn't "too skinny". No matter though, he was still one of most gallant seamen that the scientist had ever met, opening hatches, carrying heavy loads, and offering an arm in high seas to any of the women. Also, he had an old fashioned, and genuine, respect for his elders. Knopf's own wife, and the expedition's head marine biologist, Renate said that Cosigian was a very nice, very lonely man, who needed to be looked after, "for his own good". Knopf's opinion that the man seemed capable of handling anything the sea, or anyone, might throw at him, had been happily disregarded as uninformed, and his suggestion of "letting the man be" ignored. He watched now as Cosigian smiled and shook his head.

"Compulsive neatnik, I guess, Doctor," he replied in English. Knopf new his German was excellent, but he relished the opportunity to practice English since he often dealt with many colleagues from America and England, and they seldom spoke German. "Also, I've never been good about sitting still when there were other things to do. You scientists have your specimens to examine, the best we poor seaman can look forward to is a lurid novel, or Russian polka music on the short-wave."

Knopf laughed, "Yes, I am afraid we made a mistake in allowing Greta to stock the library. Who knew she was a devotee of the more passionate forms of fiction. And those tabloids! The stories they want you to believe. Giant hairy men living in the sewers beneath London, aliens bent on taking over the planet, killer plants, mind control. Where do they find these people who write these things?" He shared a grin with Lee, though he saw something beyond humor in the amber eyes, a light, that somehow spoke of knowledge beyond the ordinary. He took hold of Lee's left arm. "Come my friend," he said, "I have been sent to get you out of the cold, and into a nice bowl of soup." He paused as Lee failed to hold back a snort of amusement.

"What?" he said, finding himself smiling, not at all put out at the laughter at his expense. He found himself liking the younger man more all the time, and enjoyed his rare moments of lightheartedness.

Lee explained quickly in German what his statement had sounded like in English, and he laughed at himself.

"Well, that is one way to get around the water rationing and get a bath, not those damn cold showers each morning," he said. "I will have to suggest it to Renate." They went toward the mess hall, both unconsciously adjusting to the pitch and roll of the deck. "I am pretty sure Soren is cooking tonight, and if I recall his last soup it would be better to bathe in it than to eat it" Every third day one of the scientists cooked dinner in order to allow Greta some free time. Soren Provost, a Swiss oceanographer from Bergen University, was a wonderful scientist, tops in his field, but a poor cook. The problem was he didn't seem to notice, and thought he was good.

As Knopf reached for the hatch, Lee smiled once again. "You could be right about the soup, Doctor, but I'd stay away from is coffee though, I'm pretty sure my spoon dissolved in it last time." The two men entered the mess hall, now filled with scientists and crew, laughing.

**Chapter 2- N.I.M.R**

Nelson pounded his desk with his fist. Damn but he was angry. Angry at O.N.I for not helping out in the search for Lee, angry at Lee for disappearing, and angry at himself for not being able to track down the one person he desperately wanted to find. Harriman Nelson was not used to failure. He had always been first in his class, always the top grades, always the first promoted, always the first to discover the solution. Now he had run into something he seemingly couldn't do. And just when it mattered the most. That was what made him the angriest. What good was being a genius, and furthermore a _rich_ genius with a lot of very well informed connections, if it did no good when the chips were down?

He rose from his desk and paced to the window. The _Seaview_, with Chip acting as captain, "Temporary Captain", as he had insisted in referring to himself in the log, was out on a scheduled re-supply run to several of the undersea research labs that N.I.M.R contracted with. The trip could not be delayed, and Nelson was almost glad that Chip and the crew were not here to see his failure. He had attacked the task of finding his errant captain as he had most of the challenges in his life, full throttle and damn the torpedoes. It had not worked. Dead end after dead end had closed one avenue after another. Lee had closed his bank account, and had not used any credit card for the last two months. No mail had been forwarded, and no contact had been made with any of his known friends. It was like he had simply dropped off the planet. A more paranoid person, or one slightly less confident than Nelson in the abilities of his captain, would have suspected foul play, or even alien abduction. Nelson on the other hand knew his friend had simply bested him.

Lee had vanished very efficiently. No ties, no contacts, no trail. Damn him. Harry gazed down at the empty berth and wondered about the other emptiness that he was feeling inside himself. He had perhaps made a mistake there too, he thought to himself.

Harry frowned. Had he really allowed Lee to think that his only value to himself and the Institute was purely for his usefulness as a Captain of the boat? Hadn't Harry trusted him with making high level decisions on his own, turned the running of the _Seaview_ almost completely over to his, Lee's, control? What more could he have done? Oh, there had been times when Harry had used his position as "Boss" to overrule Lee's decisions, but that was his prerogative, as owner, and Lee had never been shy about making sure that Harry knew he wasn't happy about it. And, to be fair, often those decisions of his turned out to be not so good, and Lee had often ended up being the one to pay for them. Sacrificing himself to bring boat and crew home intact. How Harry had worried those times, with Lee's life hanging in the balance, waiting to know, to hear the words he knew would rip his heart out.

"I should have told him about how I felt," he thought, "that he was something more than just the best captain for my boat. About how much I had come to value his friendship, to count on his being there, always at my side. How, now that Edith was gone, that he, Lee, was the one I see here when I'm no longer around. Taking care of the_Seaview_, the Institute... my dreams. Just like a son."

He closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of the empty dock, and trying to block out one of the last memories he had of Lee. Standing before his desk, a wounded look covered quickly by impassivity, the perfect sailor, "Orders are orders, I understand, Sir." He should have sat down with Lee and apologized, explained. But how could you explain something like that? He was not sure himself _why_ he hadn't pushed for more clarification of the tip about an imposter, why he hadn't tried to do more _before_ it got to the point the Lee was nearly killed, twice. He sighed and straightened. He sucked in a lung full of air, and narrowed his eyes. He was not going to let Lee go. He had managed to disappear for now, but Nelson would not quit. He had the money and resources to keep looking, and he would not stop until he found what he wanted, what he needed, and he swore that when he did find his missing captain, he would not be so reticent about his feelings. Lee needed to know how he felt. With that renewed determination he strode back to his desk and reached for the phone.

**Chapter 3-One week later**

Clad in jeans and a bulky sweater, and with long johns under it all, Lee went through the hatch into the _Anemone_, and moved through the cramped tunnel-like access tube into the pilot's cockpit. One of the innovations of the _Anemone_ was separate piloting and research modules. This allowed for the research module to be left at depth for experiments requiring stationary readings. The module could remain as long as their oxygen held out, which due to the Nelson inspired co2 processing unit was for almost 24 hours. The cockpit, operating on its own power and oxygen, could function as a rover, bringing samples back to the research module, and reattaching as needed. A multiple hatch, also a Nelson innovation, connected the two to allow for movement between the modules, but it was easier to enter the cockpit through the regular hatch. Safety regulations required the hatched to be sealed during descent and ascent, should anything go wrong.

The submersible still hung from its harness above the dive pool of the ship. It swayed gently as the ship rolled, and Lee could feel the movement as the scientists climbed into the research module. He began the checklist, running through the steps to bring the power, computer and oxygen recycling systems online in both modules. He checked all the gauges and watched as they rose into optimal levels. He heard the aft hatch being sealed, and scooted back to look up the tunnel to his own hatch. Knopf's face peered down at him.

"You are all loaded my friend. I leave my wife to you; I make no promises about mother-henning however. There are two of them in there today."

"I have a locking hatch," Lee joked, "and I can always threaten to leave them on the bottom if they get carried away."

After sharing a laugh Knopf closed and dogged the hatch, then made his way down to the deck from the top of the submersible. He signaled to the winch operator, and stood back to watch as the vessel was lowered into the open bay of the ships deck. Deck hands fended the submersible off the sides of the boat as it was lowered, to save it from battering the submersible.

As the vessel settled into the water, Knopf could see Lee studying his dials, and testing the rudder and ailerons on the steering, he flipped several switches, then gave a thumbs up through the thick Herculite window. Knopf returned the gesture, and then waved as Lee spoke with the winch operator through his headset, the radio would be switched over to the regular radio operator as the winch was released. After a few minutes, after Lee tested various functions, and then spoke with the research module, the vessel slowly slipped below the surface on its long trip to the bottom.

**Chapter 4-Five hours later, Vladivostok trench**

It felt good to be back in the sea. He had enjoyed the feeling as they had slowly sank down, often putting aside the book he had brought with him, Clive Cussler's newest adventure novel, to simply look out the Herculite windows. He could almost imagine another set of windows, another set of circumstances, other companions. Only the approach to the bottom, and his duties, had pulled him from the recollections. His heart ached for the _Seaview_, for his crew, for his friends. He was coming to understand that while he could "disappear" from where he had been, getting away from himself was something he was not going to be able to do.

He_wanted_ to be Lee Crane. Lee Cosigian had a good enough life, but it wasn't_his_ life. He had almost talked himself into going back, but he knew he had hurt his friends, and had burned a lot of bridges. He knew O.N.I. would take him back, and they would be sure that the Navy took him back, but Nelson… Lee didn't know what to think about Nelson, and Chip, and the other people he had left behind: Jamie, Ski, Sharkey, Patterson, Sparks, O'Brien, and all the others. Chip would be angry. Doc would be disapproving, he would notice that 20 lbs that Lee just didn't have the appetite to regain with one glance. O'Brien, Sparks, Ski, Patterson, Sharkey, and the rest of the crew they wouldn't say anything, but they would be hurt, he would see it in their eyes. And the Admiral, if Nelson felt half as bad as he did, Lee couldn't ever see the forgiving him for just up and leaving. It was only recently that Lee had come to realize what Nelson meant to him.

He had never known a real father; his adoptive father had only wanted a son to carry on the name. No tossing the baseball around, no camping trips, no driving lessons, nothing. Lee had done everything to please the man, and his wife, to no avail. He had been the best at everything. Grades, sports, clubs, everything he was supposed to do. But they didn't care as long as appearances were maintained. _That_ was what was important, and when Lee had decided at 15 that he was going into the Navy, the rickety house of cards came tumbling down. Expectations were explained to him, as if he had been hired to play the part of the dutiful son. College, Ivy League of course, graduate degree, wife of the proper pedigree, business, and 2.5 well-mannered, quiet grandchildren. Lee, long since knowing what his "purpose" was, had bulked. He had dug in his stubborn feet, and would not be moved. He had pursued and won a place at Annapolis. He was well ahead of other students of his age, graduating high school at 16 1/2.

As a minor he had to have his parents' permission to enter Annapolis. So had begun a campaign equal to the Greek's siege of Troy. Day after day, at every opportunity, Lee had pushed for them to sign. Finally as the deadline had approached, he had played his trump card, he had told them that if they did not sign, he would wait until he was 18, then he would join the Navy as an enlisted man. He also made it clear that up until that time he would do everything he could to make sure that the façade that they had built of the perfect family was reveled for just that. An appalled look, and several threats later, he had the signed papers. One month later, one very lonely and quiet month, he had left for Annapolis. He had packed carefully when he left. Putting some treasured items in storage, and donating the rest, except for what he was taking to school with him. He would not be coming back, that had been made clear. They had washed their hands of the ungrateful street urchin they had done their best for. He suspected that he would simply disappear from their lives like a discharged servant. Any pictures would be destroyed. No mention of him would be made at the parties. His room would be redecorated to become another guest room.

He had made sure that he never was without someplace to be. He had taken any internship that was available to fill his summers; during leave he either stayed at the dorm, or after meeting Chip, gone to the Morton's house. There he had found everything that a child could have wanted in a family, and had known envy for the first time in many years. Loving parents, squabbling siblings, a herd of scruffy mutts and snooty cats, and friends were always welcome. Chip had been his first best friend.

Then in his second year, he had met Harriman Nelson, then a captain and a guest lecturer. In an advanced tactics glass, Nelson had thought the incredibly young looking, first year student had gotten in the wrong class; it was after all a second year class. But Lee had assured him that he had met the qualifications, and was in the right place. A skeptical Nelson had proceeded with the class, and had had his first experience with the Crane stubbornness in the first session. Nelson had begun with a discussion of the tactics used by his namesake, Admiral Horatio Nelson, at Trafalgar. While the other students had listened with a rapt attention and sucked up the information as if questioning had never crossed their minds, Crane questioned everything. Every interpretation was discussed at length, forcing Nelson to support his stance. Crane argued him to a standstill on one point, and Nelson was forced to reevaluate the facts based on this new interpretation. The class period had ended at that point, and both men were surprised to find that they were looking forward to the next session. A friendship had been born there. Though never overstepping the bounds of regulations, and being sure to not allow any possible suggestion of favoritism, Nelson had taken an interest in Lee Crane, and through him Chip Morton. Lee had never regretted the meeting. After Annapolis they had remained in touch, finally serving together on Nelson's command, the _Nautilus_. Lee always said he learned more during his tour on the _Natalie_ than all the time at Groton sub school. Even with postings that made it impossible to see each other more than a few times a year, they had kept in touch. And then there had been _Seaview_. Even as Nelson had been building it, Lee had kept an eye on the project from afar. He had been in command of a Los Angeles class, cruise missle-loaded, Navy sub at that time, and had loved his boat, but the envy had still been there. Then the opportunity had come to be the Captain, if only for that one mission. He couldn't say no, and he had not been ale to say no when Nelson had asked him to stay. He had wanted _Seaview_ so bad it had almost hurt, and now he had thrown it away.

And also gone was the bonus he had not counted on, the closeness with Nelson. What had begun as a shared fascination with the sea, and submarines, had turned into something more. Shared meals, shared confidences, shared dangers, all had combined to make Harriman Nelson the closest thing Lee suspected he would ever have to a father. Never spoken, never even contemplated in his own mind really, the feelings had grown. The respect had been built in as a Naval officer to his superior, as a wannabe submariner to an experienced sub commander, as a person seeking knowledge with a veritable fountain of information. Then it became a friendship, tempered by years of letters, chance meetings at COMSUBPAC, the occasional Washington D.C. party. Nelson had never used his influence to help Lee's career, and Lee would have never thought to ask. He valued Nelson for his integrity, and had modeled himself on the man's command style, though Chip snickered whenever they had discussed it. Then, after Lee came to the_Seaview_, their relationship had taken another step. At first he did not realize what it was. He just thought they were good friends. Then he came to realize that he counted on Nelson to be there not for his professional life, but for his personal life. When there was a decision to be made, he wanted Nelson's opinion. He liked to spend time with Nelson, listening to his stories, his theories, and his ideas. When he was in sickbay, and Jamie wouldn't let him out, it was Chip and Nelson that he wanted to be there when he woke. It made him feel safe, cared for… loved. The brother he had never had and the father he had never known, and he had thrown it all away, in a callous disregard for their feelings. That thought had given him pause. What if they didn't feel the same way? He knew he was just avoiding the issue. There was no doubt in his mind that Chip counted him among his siblings, as did Chip's entire family. As to Nelson… that was a different thing all together. Neither spoke of their feelings, but both knew how the other felt, words weren't needed.

Before he had gone to Annapolis no one had been interested enough in Lee to ask how he felt about anything, so he had learned to keep his feelings and opinions to himself. At the Academy he had quickly learned that his opinion was valued, and if he didn't have his own, someone would give him one. That had been unacceptable, and he had never looked back form there. But when it came to his feelings, he still kept those close to his chest. He showed that he cared by his actions. What had his actions said to those he cared about this time? He swore under his breath.

_Good going Lee, you finally get the family you always wanted, and you treat them like dirt_, he thought to himself.

He pulled his thoughts away from his own concerns as the sonar started picking up the bottom approaching quickly. Lee leveled the _Anemone_, and brought it to a stop, five feet from the closest remnant of a black smoker. They were at 5,016 feet, at the bottom of the Vladivostok trench. The remnant was on the old sea floor, having moved along with the plate as it crawled its slow path to the subduction zone. Comparison of this old smoke, with the current smokers would offer information on changes in the process over the last several millennia. Franz Herman, Knopf's assistant, and a geologist specializing in plate movements, would be taking samples. Renate Knopf, and her assistant Maria, would be taking pictures and samples of any life forms found. Soren Provost, was along to take water samples, and take some oxygenation readings at depth. Lee avoided landing in the silt of the bottom, knowing that it would disturb the fine particles and create a blizzard that would lower visibility for hours before it settled. He hovered the craft slowly closer to the old smoker, and keyed in the intercom.

"There's your target, Franz. Five bucks says you can't get it on the first pass," he said tauntingly in German to the geologist who would be manipulating the arm to take the core sample. The scientist was addicted to gambling at just about anything. Lee had cheerfully taken him for every cookie that the man had stashed away for snacks during the previous night's regular poker game. He reminded Lee of Chip.

"Oh my friend," said Franz, laughing, "you are living dangerously now! I have lulled you into a false sense of security by sacrificing my cookies, now you will see how skilled I am." Lee could hear the other scientists laughing in the background, egging Franz on, or adding their own bets. Franz was new to the expedition, and had only gone down this deep once previously. He had done several shallower dives, however, and was experienced with the controls of the core sampler. Lee was sure that he would have no trouble, but morale was important on a boat, and even if his current crew was only four, and his vessel was only 40 feet long, he still felt it was his responsibility to keep things light. No one onboard had as much experience as he had in underwater travel, and he since he was the pilot, he was responsible. He turned on all the lights, giving everyone the best possible chance to see what the surroundings held. He himself almost pushed himself through the back of his chair when he looked up to find himself nearly face to face with a deep sea fish that only marine biologist could find attractive. Huge teeth in a huge overhung jaw, and two bulging eyes that seemed to be evaluating Lee for the next meal. He turned on the camera in the nose of the vessel and focused on his new friend.

"Dr. Knopf, there seems to be someone up here for you," he said, keying into the intercom, "on camera 1. He's already smiling for the camera."

He heard the laugh as the scientists turned on their own bank of monitors, tuning into the nose camera.

"Yes, I think he is definitely ready for his close-up," Maria Knopf said. "A very nice specimen of _Linophryne arborifer_s. I will take some pictures while he is so cooperative. I think he must like you Lee, usually they do not stay in the light for long."

"I think he's thinking about dinner," Lee said, wishing the toothy thing would move away toward another camera. He much preferred the sea life at the shallower depths to the strange things that were found under the pressure at this depth. They definitely tended to the weird.

He kept up the slow pace toward the old smoker, and the fish, showing a remarkably smooth reverse acceleration, swam backwards to maintain the same distance from the craft.

"My, he really likes you Lee," Renate said, a chuckle in her voice, "or perhaps it's a she." Laughter rang through the intercom.

"It's not nice to laugh at the guy who has to get you back to the surface," Lee reminded them sternly, smiling to himself. They were now within a foot of the small pillar of rock that was all that remained of the ancient smoker

"I'm afraid that's the best I can do for you Franz," he said bringing the vessel to a stop."If you have to be any closer you'll have to get out and walk."

More laughter, and the retractable core sampler appeared in Lee's line of sight, boring into the rock. It would take a few moment s to get the sample, and then they would move along the trench to see if there were other remnant smokers and to see if there were other biologics beside Old Toothy, who seemed to be completely enchanted by the_Anemone_. Lee noted the time and checked in with the surface. He had notified them that they had reached the bottom, but the regular 30 minute check-in had to be observed. He let the ship know what they were up to, and told them he was planning on moving north along the trench, unless the scientists had another plan, and he would notify the ship if anything changed. After signing off he noticed that the core arm was retracting with the sample, and keyed the intercom again.

"You finally done, Franz? We have places to be you know," he said.

"I am done my friend, and you owe me five dollars. The perfect sample, and in record time I believe," Franz replied.

"I'll call my broker when we get back to the surface, and have him cash in some stock." Lee looked at his instruments, and looked through the Herculite. Toothy was still there. "How about we head north for now?"

There were no objections from the rear, and he headed the craft north, steering around the old smoker. His toothy companion seemed startled at first by the speed at which they were moving, but then he/she reversed and swam alongside the nose of the craft. Lee smiled. Another fan, just what he needed.

**Chapter 5-Two hours later**

Dieter Knopf was looking at some data that was being sent up from the submersible. Telemetry on the water composition, oxygenation, and silt content, was coming up from the small diagnostics chromatograph in the craft. He and Franz had been discussing taking samples from the trench wall, where the younger geologist had spotted an interesting vein of minerals. The dive was going smoothly, the sampling was well above expectations, and he credited much of that to the expert handling that their new pilot was doing. When taking samples a steady platform was necessary, and Renate had praised Lee's control. The young man was turning out to be quite the find. They had been exceedingly lucky to get him at the last moment. Knopf had expected to have to cancel the expedition until the following year, when they had received a phone call at the Institute from America. At first he had been skeptical that chance could be so good to them. Over the phone, and on paper, the pilot and diver had looked perfect, and he spoke fluent German. He had suspected a bit of exaggeration, but had been pleasantly surprised when he had met Lee Cosigian the next day. Even tired from the long flight from the States, the young man had impressed him on first meeting. The slim, trim build bespoke a life of activity, and the smooth gait of an athlete was evident even carrying his one duffle bag through the airport. When he had met the intense, golden eyes, he had known that the resume was not exaggerated. The man exuded competence. Trial runs in the submersible had proven it, as the new man had taken the submersible through its paces as if he had invented it.

With this level of information coming on, they would reach their goal well within the constraints of their schedule. They might even be able to do a little extra, always an exciting thing to scientists who struggled under the yoke of time and funding constraints. He looked up as an instrument across the cabin started moving, he rose quickly to his feet and moved in front of it. The arm seismograph was swinging wildly; it was a least a 5.0 trembler. He snatched up the mike.

"Radio room! Quickly, contact the submersible, there is a seaquake, tell them to move away from the walls! Quickly!" he yelled, he watched as the seismograph slowed back to its regular squiggle. The seismograph was tuned to a station about 200 miles away; the seismic waves would be arriving below them even as he spoke to the radio operator. He prayed that his warning would be in time.

Lee had been negotiating a close approach to the trench wall, to allow for another core sample. The trench was narrower at this point, giving him space to turn the submersible only if he was very careful, and he really wanted to get this over with and move on. They only had another hour at this depth before they were scheduled to start the slow ascent to the surface. He was idly making faces at Toothy, who had followed them for hours now, when the radio sprang to life. He barely heard the word quake when the vessel began rocking wildly; seconds later the impact of rocks, falling from the trench sides above, could be heard on the top of the craft. Lee tried to pull the vessel away from the wall, only to be stopped as the corer tool reached its full extension, dragging them to a halt. He slapped at the emergency disengage, leaving the coring tool still buried in the wall, but free from the submersible. He poured all the power he could to the motors, aiming the craft toward the wider area just ahead about 30 feet.

They didn't make it. Larger and larger strikes were echoing through the small craft, as rocks rained down from above, one last desperate burst of power almost could have put them beyond the avalanche, but a blow from a large boulder just slightly smaller than themselves pushed them sideways into the other side of the trench. Lee was slammed against the side of the cockpit, as he impacted the instruments there, electrical sparks danced across his arm, burning through the material of his sweater to the skin. His head hit the corner of the sonar screen, and stars filled his vision for a moment, then he sank into the velvet darkness.

**Chapter 6- 30 minutes later**

Lee heard tinny voices in the distance at first, becoming slowly more insistent. His head pounded fiercely and a warm trickle of liquid seemed to be running down the left side of his face. His left arm burned as if on fire. He opened his eyes, but was only confused to find the darkness as absolute as before he had opened them. He felt a brief moment of panic, of disorientation, and then it all came flooding back. The trench, the turbulence, and then the avalanche of rock from above. The lights were out in the submersible, and the total blackness of the deep had surrounded them. The main system was offline, and he needed light to be able to fix it.

"Think, Lee," a voice said inside his muzzy head, and he concentrated on where he was.

He reached forward to where he knew the main control panel had to be. He visualized the layout in his mind, and pressed the button to bring up the back up power system. Light, only slightly less bright than the regular system, glowed from above to his right. The submersible lay slightly on her left side, and his board looked dead except for the back up system. He rapidly ran through the process for switching the CO2 recycling system to the back up power. Then he turned his attention to the voice that had brought him to consciousness. Renate Knopf was pleading with him to answer. Her voice was amazingly calm, given the circumstances, and he smiled slightly at her fortitude. He tried to sit straight in the chair, and had to stop while his head whirled. The velvet darkness threatened to return, but by sheer force of will he forced it back, and reached for the intercom button. There were other people to consider, and he had no time for dizziness.

"I'm here Renate." No time for formality now, he thought. "Sorry for the rough ride. I've got the back up systems going. How is everyone back there?" He was flipping switches, trying to evaluate the state of the main systems while he talked.

"We are bruised, and not a little scared, to tell the truth. We couldn't reach you, or the surface, and with the power out we were getting worried." She paused. "Soren says the hatch to your module is jammed, we couldn't get it open to come to you. How are you? You have not answered for almost half an hour now." The last was said with concern.

"I'm fine," he replied, and almost laughed as he had a vision of Jamie shaking his head and scowling as was the regular response when he used that phrase. He would give a lot to see that scowl right now. "I'm working on the main system, I'll have radio to the surface in a moment." He didn't add the thought that was in his head: _if the antennae survived_. They didn't need that right now. If it became a problem, _then_ he would tell them.

"I'll put it on the intercom so you can hear."

He flipped a few more switches, and keyed the radio. "_Anemone_ to _Meer_._Anemone_ to _Meer_ do you read?"

There was a pause, almost too long for Lee's heart to take, then the answer returned. "_Anemone_ this is _Meer_. We read you! Are you all right? We lost contact on radio and sonar almost 30 minutes ago. Are…Are you damaged?" It was Knopf, his voice shaky with concern. Lee could understand his worry; it wasn't only a crew, and a multi-million dollar submersible. It was his wife.

"We are on the bottom, _Meer_. Everyone is fine, just a few bumps and bruises," Lee replied. "We have back up systems, and I am working on the main system. We caught part of an avalanche, and we are probably blending into the debris. I haven't taken a look around outside yet, but I believe that we are clear overhead, we had moved out of the way of most of the rocks. It just caught us from the side for the most part. I won't have cameras until I get the main system working. My sonar and depth finding equipment is fried, not that I'll need them soon. We'll be out of touch for a while, but I'll be sure to check back in at the regular times."

"Good!" Knopf replied. "May I talk to Renate, before you sign off?" He tried not to sound anxious.

"Sure, I'll talk to you in half and hour. I'm switching to the research module now. Crane out." He took himself out of the radio link, and looked at his arm. Most of the material of his sweater was burned away on the outside of the sleeve, and blisters were forming along his forearm and bicep. Most of the area around the blisters was red, but there were a few areas that showed more damage. He had been lucky his sweater was natural fibers. A synthetic would have melted onto his skin. He reached for the first aid kit that was under his seat. He needed to get some burn spray over the area, and take a gauze pad and clean up the blood that was still slowly dripping down his face. His head ached, and he wanted to take a few aspirin to control that and the pain from his arm. The he would get to the main systems. They needed to get out of here.

**Chapter 7- The **_**Meer**_

Knopf stared at the radio for a few moments after he signed off with his Renate. He prayed that this was a temporary problem, that Cosigian could get the main system back on line, and surface the submersible. However, he had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked around at the other crew who had crowded into the radio room to hear what had happened.

"They are all right. They just need to get the main systems going again, and then they can surface." He motioned toward the doorway. "You all go on and do what you were doing, and we will let you know what goes on." Perhaps a distraction was in order. He looked at one of the oceanographers. "Could you see if there is anything from Hawaii or Japan about a tsunami warning? It would be interesting to track the wave." Tsunamis resulting from undersea earthquakes were tracked by both the American and Japanese government Geological Administrations, and information would be available on any possible waves moving away from the epicenter. Moving at upwards of 200 miles an hour in some cases, the wave could be reaching them soon. They were in no danger from the wave itself since they were at sea, and to those not watching for its passing it would be nearly indistinguishable from the regular rise and fall of the ocean, even if it were a large danger to those on shore.

He watched as the group filtered out, discussing among them the excitement of the last hour. He then turned to the radioman. "Contact the H.R.C. tell them what has happened, that we are not sure what is going to go on. Ask them to start inquiries about deep-sea rescue vessels in the area. The Japanese, the Americans, even the Russians." He rose stiffly, until then not realizing how tense he had become, "And Eric, please keep it quiet, we do not want to panic anyone, and we definitely will not mention it to the _Anemone_. It is just a precaution. If it comes to nothing, no harm done, but if we need it I want to be ready as swiftly as possible." The radioman nodded, and turned to his task, donning earphones, and sliding close to his microphone. Knopf remained for a few moments, and then went to wait out the next 30 minutes.

**Chapter 8-N.I.M.R –1 hour later**

Angie's voice on the intercom came just as Nelson was reaching for his bottle of scotch. He had once again hit a brick wall on a lead. It was getting tedious, first a hot lead, anxious hours of questions and new leads, but all for nothing. He wasn't sure where else to go. Perhaps a bit of liquid lubrication would help the thought processes. His hand paused in mid-reach as he heard Angie.

"Admiral, Helmut Herrich from the Herrich Research Institute is on line 3. He says it is urgent."

"Thank you Angie, I'll take it now." He reached for the phone. "Helmut, this better be good, the last time you said it was urgent you were looking for a place to throw-up."

There was a brief silence and then a laugh. "You had to remind me about Stockholm, didn't you Harry. I would really rather forget the whole thing. Speeches, presentations, and after parties, everything." Helmut Herrich was an old acquaintance, contemporaries in science and age the two men had met over 40 years ago at a seminar, and had stayed friends and drinking buddies since. The last time they were together everyone had partied a little too much, with the results of several upset stomachs, and the realization that they weren't as young as they used to be.

"But no, I am not calling to remember our misspent old age. I have a possible problem, and I am trying to find out if you could help in the event it comes to pass. I have an expedition at the Vladivostok trench, with that submersible of yours as a matter of fact. There was a seaquake, about 500 miles away, but the submersible was caught in an avalanche of rocks. The main systems are down, so there is no information yet about their situation beyond that they are alive and have back up systems. The pilot is doing everything he can to bring the main systems up. We are hoping that he can, and they will be able to free themselves and surface. They have 16 hours of air left. It will take 3 to surface at the highest possible safe rate of ascent, so a 13-hour window. If the worst happens we need to know who is in the area that can reach us, and reach them before it is too late." He paused "Mein Gott, Harry, I do not wish to lose five lives. I would give my life to save them, if it would help. Do you have anything nearby?"

Harry spun around and looked at the map on his wall. Angie had updated the position of all the Institute's vessels less than an hour ago, so he had up to date information. Finally something that he might actually be able to help with.

"What is their depth Helmut?" he asked quickly, already disregarding several possible vessels that had no way of reaching the area in time.

"Just over 5000 feet."

"Hmm. That makes it more complicated. Narrows the field considerably. " Nelson put the call on speaker and moved closer to the map. " The_Seaview_ is within 5 hours of your position, and she can deploy the diving Bell to that depth in less than 4 hours after arriving. That would leave a four-hour window. I can have her start heading in your direction now, it's not a large diversion from her course, and should the need arise, she'll be able to move to flank speed and reach the area quickly."

A great sigh was heard from the speaker "Thank you Harry, that is a great weight off my shoulders. That is why I contacted you first; I knew you would not let me down. We should be hearing from the _Anemone_ again in another 30 minutes at check in. The pilot was sure that he would have the main system back on line then. We should have some more information then, and good news, we hope."

"You'll call me when you know, either way?" Nelson asked

"I will call you as soon as they call us. I am on my way to the airport now. I will be flying into Verkut in Russia. It is the nearest airstrip that can take our plane. From there the Russians will fly us out to the _Meer_ on a helicopter. Almost 6 hours to fly there, but I must be on hand, regardless of the outcome. I will be in touch with the _Meer_ all the time. Thank you again Harry. I have to go now; my secretary is telling me that the car is ready. I will call. Good bye." He disconnected.

For a moment Harry stared at the speaker. It was almost a comfort to hear that there were others with concerns worse than his. Just a missing friend/son to deal with, not life and death. He reached for the intercom to contact the _Seaview_. Chip would not be happy about the delay to the mission. He was itching to try his own hand at tracking Lee, but he would understand and do his duty. After Lee, Nelson trusted Chip the most of anyone he knew, if the need arose Chip could handle it just fine. But, _he_ needed to get out of here before he went nuts, or was tempted to drink himself into a stupor. A diversion for a few hours while other people continued to follow the few clues that Lee had left behind. He decided to go out to the _Seaview_ himself. He wanted to be with his boat and his crew. Even if the one crewmember he really wanted to see wasn't there.

**Chapter 9: Vladivostok Trench- 30 minutes later**

Lee let out the breath that he hadn't even been aware he was holding, as there was a sudden flare to the lights and the main system came back on overriding the backup. He scanned his board looking for any trouble spots. Everything was green. He reached for the exterior light switch, and then the camera controls, time to see what they were up against. He knew that the research module would see the lights, and that they would be seeing their own boards lighting up. He had asked them to shut down any unnecessary machines to keep the demand on the system to a minimum. He had decided to take a look for himself before informing them of their situation. Panic would not be an option in the close confines of the module, he wanted to be able to put the best possible spin on whatever he might find.

He panned the camera around, trying to see the length of the vessel. He switched from camera to camera, moving aft down the hull, and then paused as he got to the mid-ship camera. It was pointed aft, the rear of the craft, and Lee did not like what he was seeing. The last five feet of the submersible was under debris, he couldn't tell if it was rock or dirt, but whatever it was he would not be able to use the rear propeller or the steering planes. Without those, there was no way to raise the submersible. The smaller propellers on either side were for maneuvering, and the one on the left side of the vessel was now crushed into the bottom. The starboard propeller was useless. Lee sighed. One option was closed, they would not be saving themselves, and it was time to get the deep-sea rescue vehicles involved. The question would be who was closest, and were they close enough. If he knew Knopf, and he suspected that he did, then contingency plans were already being made.

He reached for the intercom first. He paused for a moment to steady himself. His head was still pounding, and the pain in his arm had faded to a dull ache. He had not thought to mention either condition when he had last spoken to the surface, or to the crew in the other module. It simply wasn't important. He keyed the mike.

"Well folks, I hope someone brought some cards or you've all got a good, long book. We're going to be in for a bit of a wait I'm afraid. The aft end of your module is covered in debris. There's no way to use the main propeller to get us out of here. That's assuming that it's even still there. I am sure that doctor Knopf already has things in the works to get someone down here to get us loose and bring us up, so that's no worry. We have oxygen for a little over 15 hours, so boredom and hypothermia are going to be the main challenges for us." It had gotten notably cooler in both the modules. Lee suspected that the heating coil had been damaged, as it was located on the port side just forward of the steering planes. While they would not freeze, since the various machines produced a small amount of heat, it would be cold.

"Lee how are you up there? You have a smaller area, and no one to share body heat," Renate asked. She was more or less the official spokesman of the group. Once again Lee had to marvel at the woman's composure. Nothing seemed to faze her. He hoped that the others were taking it as well.

"I'll be fine. My own body heat is keeping it level, and I have the control panel heat. I also have gloves and a blanket if it goes down too far to be comfortable." Time for another diversion tactic. "Don't worry about me, I have my book. If I were you guys I'd get out the cards and play some poker. I have it on good authority the Soren has five bucks burning a hole in his pocket. Try five card stud, he's a sucker for trying to fill a straight." A creative German curse could be heard over the intercom, and laughter from the other crew. Yes, they seemed to be taking it well. He was always blessed with a good crew it seemed. Now if he could only convince himself he deserved it.

"I'll be contacting the surface in five minutes. Any messages?" No one had anything to say, perhaps knowing that it would be best to save the battery power. "Well, you know where I am, let me know when you have Soren cleaned out." He clicked off the intercom, and sat back in the seat. He wished the vessel had at least landed level. Sitting at this angle was painful on his arm, and he had to wear his harness to remain in place rather than keep sliding toward the port instrument panel. He shivered. It was getting colder already. He had not felt it necessary to mention that the Herculite lost heat faster than the regular titanium metal plates that made up the rest of the submersible. He would not freeze, but it was going to get colder here than the research module. He reached back behind the seat for the blanket, wool cap and gloves that were stowed there. Might as well bundle up now. Once he had wrapped himself in the blanket, a large and scratchy wool affair, and pulled on the wool watch cap, he glanced at the chronometer. It was time to contact the surface, and break the bad news.

**Chapter 10-The **_**Meer**_

Dieter Knopf rubbed his hand over his face, and hung his suddenly aching head. "You are sure, there is no way to free the rear of the vessel, what about the manipulative arms?" He meant the various mechanical arms used to collect samples. There were 6 on the vessel, of varying lengths and strengths.

"Negative,"Cosigian's voice said through the speaker. He sounded very sure. "We had to jettison the coring tool when the quake hit, it was on the largest and strongest arm. Even if I had it, I couldn't reach most of the debris, and even then some of the rocks look too large for the arm to move. I don't have any aft cameras working, and I would be working blind in any event for the most part, just another recipe for disaster. We need help. Anything nearby?"

Knopf almost smiled "How do you know that we have even asked yet?"

"German efficiency. You guys are supposed to be famous for planning ahead. I am hoping to see some of that efficiency in action before I get to the end of my book. This is not going to be a comfortable place to sleep."

"Read slowly my friend. The Americans are coming. They are less than five hours away I am told, and are already moving this way. They can come down and free the module." He frowned, a sudden thought crossing his mind. "Cosigian, you can free the pilot module and surface now! You do not need to wait there. The Americans will be here and can free the others. You can advise them from here." While he worried for his wife and the others, he saw no reason that the pilot should remain in the cold for so long, alone.

"A captain….a pilot I mean, doesn't abandon his boat Doc. I'll wait it out." There was no doubting the sincerity of the statement. Knopf found the slip interesting however. He would have to add that to the information he had on the mystery that was Lee Cosigian. 'By the way Doc, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't mention that idea to the others. Morale, you know." Lee had not piped the conversation into the research module, just in case the prospect for rescue was grim.

"All right. I understand my friend. I will wait for your next contact. We will have the Americans come at full speed. We will get you out."

"I know you will Doc, _Anemone_ out."

Knopf looked at the radio operator, who looked as grim as he felt. "Contact Herr Herrich, have him tell his American friend to come at full speed. You heard everything. Give him the information." He pushed himself up from the seat where he had collapsed when Lee Cosigian had broke the news. "I will tell the others." He left the radio room with heavy steps. It would be a long wait.

**Chapter 11-**_**Seaview**_**-**

"Mr. Morton, we're getting the recognition codes from the flying sub. They are ready to dock." Chip acknowledged Sparks, and looked at the clock. The Admiral must have had the "pedal to the metal" to make it so quickly. He moved toward the nose, listening as the small sub docked. When the tell tale lights were all green he spun the handle on the hatch, and lifted. As he stepped back the Admiral came up the ladder, stripping off his leather jacket as he did so.

"Chip, go ahead and resume course. We want to be on sight as soon as possible." He said

"Should we go to emergency speed?" Chip asked

Nelson considered, "No, we don't want to push too hard and have a problem. We're only two hours away now at flank speed. That should give us a good window." He moved toward the chart table, nodding to the duty crew as he did so. He also was noticing the difference.

It wasn't anything that he could quantify in a scientific manner. It wasn't even something that he was aware of all the time. It just struck him more now since he had not been aboard since Lee had gone missing. The difference in the boat. The crew was the same, moving efficiently from job to job. Everything was done the same as always. Shifts changed, work went on. But it was different. The boat _missed_ Lee Crane. The crew missed him, and _Seaview_ herself seemed to take on a different feeling, as if while she continued on with her purpose, the joy was gone. Lee and the boat had bonded. No one, not even Harriman Nelson himself, could do with the_Seaview_ what Lee Crane could. No one knew every bolt, plate, and bulkhead like Lee Crane. Dammit, Nelson wanted him back!

He sighed, and looked at Chip. The XO was his regular neat self in his Khakis, but his face was looking pale, and there was something in his eyes that Nelson recognized, because he had seen it in his own eyes in the mirror. He suspected that the young officer wasn't sleeping well, and was spending his spare time worrying about their missing friend. Chip nodded, recognizing the sentiment.

"I'm gonna kill him when we find him. I just hope he hasn't managed to get himself killed before hand. He doesn't have us to watch his back for him now, and you know he can't stay out of trouble," Chip said softly.

Nelson snorted, and tossed his jacket on the chart table. "You'll have to wait in line, Admiral's privilege." He sighed again. " I just want him back. He belongs here."

Chip nodded again, then looked at the chart. "We've made good time. We'll be on site in about 1 hour 45 minutes. Have you gotten any more information about the submersible?"

"I have spoken directly with the head scientist at the site. He has been in contact with the pilot. They are at 5030 feet, on the bottom. The trench begins to widen out to the north of them. The pilot says they are about five feet from the west wall, they landed mostly on their keel, listing about 15 degrees to port. The rear third of the submersible is covered by debris, some of it boulder sized. The main propeller and both steering planes are covered, possibly damaged. The manipulative arms are gone on the port side; the right side main arm was lost in the quake. The smaller arms are not strong enough to move much of the debris. They lost main systems when the avalanche hit them, but the pilot was able to get them back online. The heater coil was evidently destroyed, and it is getting cold. They are down to about 40 degrees in the main module at last contact. They have blankets, and are huddling to share body heat. The pilot is trapped in his module since the connecting hatch is jammed from the research module side. They seem to be in pretty fair morale for the situation. Dieter Knopf says the pilot has kept everyone calm, and seems to know the systems and sub well enough to know what he is talking about so the information should be accurate."

Chip considered the information. "Isn't this submersible one of your babies? The one you and Lee worked on about two years ago?"

Nelson nodded. "Yes, the _Anemone_. The Herrich Institute bought the first one."

"Doesn't the pilot's module detach? Couldn't he have surfaced already?"

"Dieter Knopf suggested that to him, but he refused, said a pilot didn't leave his boat."

"Well, you can't fault his dedication. I don't know if I would do the same in the situation. Jamie wanted to know if there had been any injuries?"

"Nothing important reported. Bumps and bruises, and I'm sure a touch of hypothermia can be expected. He shouldn't be too busy."

"Who do you want in the Bell?"

"Sharkey, Kowalski, and myself."

"Admiral," Chip started, but broke off as Nelson raised a hand.

"I know Chip, but it takes my mind off of other things, and I haven't been down in the Vladivostok trench. It will be an interesting dive."

Chip agreed, not wanting to get into an argument he knew he would not win. The only person who could talk the Admiral out of going on these kinds of things wasn't here, not that Lee always won either, but he wasn't shy about trying. Chip had to hide a smug grin when he thought about some of the "discussions" that Lee and the Admiral had retired to the nose to have. Even with the crash doors closed, voices could be heard. Last count showed Lee several up on the Admiral.

Nelson scooped up the jacket and moved forward toward the spiral staircase and his quarters. "Let me know when we are on site. We'll surface and meet with the _Meer_. Helmut Harwich is there now. He may want one of his people to go down with us."

"Aye Sir." Chip stared after him for a moment then cast a glance around the control room. Sharkey was hovering near the periscope island, no doubt having been not so subtly eavesdropping on the senior staff. Chip gestured him forward. "You and Kowalski will be going down with the Admiral. Is everything prepped?"

"Yes Sir," said the Chief snappily, his craggy face smiling. "We're ready to go on your say so." He paused at Chips raised eyebrow. "Um sir… Any news on the Skipper, since we sailed that is?"

Chip shook his head. "No. Dismissed, Chief." He really did not want to talk about his missing friend. He meant what he had said to the Admiral. He was going to throttle Lee as soon as they found him, that is if he could get around his defense. Lee could be deadly, literally, in hand to hand combat. Of course he suspected he would have lots of help. He missed his friend most here in the control room, the light banter, the discussions about the boat, taking care of crew matters, joking at the chart table. Chip didn't want to be Captain. Not now, and maybe not ever. He was a great XO. Lee said he was the best he had ever had. He valued Lee's evaluation, and his own position. He could be a good captain, competent, and knowledgeable, but he would never be a captain like Lee, at one with the _Seaview_. The man could even feel the change in speed when he was half drugged in sickbay! He idly sketched out the course on the chart, studying the detailed area to be sure there were no seamounts that could cause problems during the rescue. He wanted to get this over with, get back to the regular run, and go find Lee. He was tired of being left hanging.

**Chapter 12-The **_**Meer**_

Dieter Knopf watched as the submarine _Seaview_ surfaced off the starboard bow. It was an impressive sight, and he could only imagine having such a platform for research, as Nelson did. He knew that Nelson had designed the _Anemone_, using much of the same technology as had gone into the _Seaview_, and he was lucky the Helmut Herrich had been a close friend of Nelson's. There was long waiting list, and they had been first on the list. The opportunities for research it had afforded them were too numerous to count. He and the other scientists at the H.R.I were in constant competition for time with the submersible. He had been fortunate to get it for this expedition, and he prayed that he would remain fortunate. He continued to watch as the _Meer_ and the _Seaview_ maneuvered until they lay bow to bow, and lines were tossed from the_Meer_ to secure the two vessels together. He turned as he heard footsteps. It was Dr Herrich, founder of the Institute, who had arrived hours ago to supervise.

"Impressive, isn't it Dieter?" Herrich said, nodding at the _Seaview_. "That a man not only has wealth and knowledge, but can have such a research vessel at his command. I often envy Harriman."

"Indeed sir. I think I could put such a vessel to very good use. Though I will be happy just to get _our_ vessel back relatively undamaged." They watched as three men appeared from the conning tower of the submarine, and moved toward the ladder that had been dropped from the deck of the _Meer_.

"Here comes Harry and his men. Come Dieter, I will introduce you, and we will see about getting our boat back."

The five men met in the mess hall of the ship. It was quiet, and only Greta moved about, giving them all coffee, and offering fresh made bread and butter, which everyone declined.

"Admiral Harriman Nelson, this is Dr Dieter Knopf, the head of the expedition, I am afraid I do not know your officers," Herrich said.

"Dr. Helmut Herrich, Dr Knopf, this is the Executive Office of the_Seaview_, Chip Morton, and my Chief Medical Officer, Will Jamison. I wanted to be sure that they were updated on the circumstances. Have you heard any new information since we last talked?"

"A pleasure to meet you gentlemen," Herrich said, and then ceded the floor to Knopf. "Dieter has been talking to the pilot since the beginning, I will let him fill you in."

Knopf stood, and moved over to a chart of the trench that was hung on the bulkhead of the mess hall. "We have located the site exactly using our sonar. Our Pilot managed to send us a "ping" and we got an excellent reading. "

Nelson frowned, "I thought the sonar and depth finder were damaged in the avalanche. How did he send a ping?"

Knopf laughed. "The young man is very clever, our Cosigian. He set up a feedback loop in one of the other systems, and broadcast the sound through an external speaker. Our sonar man said it almost punctured his eardrums. Crude, but very effective. I wish we had a second submersible so that we could keep him on after this. Even Eric had to admit that he could do things with it he hadn't even thought of." He smiled at the _Seaview_ men, and explained, "Eric is our regular pilot. He was injured in a car accident just before we were to leave for this expedition, and we had no back up qualified for this depth. We were lucky to get Cosigian, though I do not think he is feeling so lucky now."

He pointed to a small mark on the chart. "This is the position." He took a small paper from his pocket, and handed it to Chip. "Here are the coordinates. We have had no further developments since you were updated at the top of the hour. We should be hearing from them again in about 5 minutes. Perhaps you would wish to speak with our pilot yourselves, to get a better picture of the situation."

Nelson was looking thoughtful, but seemed to shake it off and answered, "Yes, we would appreciate that. It will give us a better idea of what we'll need to take with us. By the way Dr Knopf, Helmut mentioned that he thought you would perhaps to go down with us in the Bell."

"Indeed!" said Knopf, surprised. "I do not know if Herr Herrich has told you, but my wife, Renate, is one of the crew on the _Anemone_. It would be a great comfort to take a more active role in getting them to the surface." He glanced at the clock. "Shall we go to the radio room? It is about the time for the next contact."

The group moved to the radio room, and waited for the call from below. Jamie spoke to Knopf asking about any injuries, and the temperature of the modules.

"No one has said anything about an injury. The last time I spoke to them the temperature in the research module was at 38 degrees. Everyone is bundled up and sharing body heat. Cosigian has not said what the pilot module is like. He avoids the question. I am afraid it is cooler there with the windows." He stopped and considered for a moment. "He says only that he has a blanket, gloves, and a woolen hat. He does not strike me as a man who would complain about anything short of a fatal injury."

Jamie scowled, and nodded his head. "I know exactly what you mean Dr., I deal with them all the time." He didn't mention the thought that instantly came to mind, about a certain Captain. He missed the young Commander; he even missed the arguments, evasions, and escapes. He had found life on the _Seaview_ a little boring of late. He hadn't realized that he had gotten used to the trouble that seemed to find the Skipper no matter where he was. He sighed. Where had the man gotten off to?

Jamie had no doubt that if Crane didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Nelson would try, it was in his nature, but Jamie had come to know the Skipper very well over the years. The man was highly intelligent, and resourceful, not to mention willful and stubborn. Jamie sometimes had the distinct feeling that even if Crane was up to his eyeballs in trouble, and everything seemed to be completely out of control, the Skipper had everything exactly where he wanted it, and was only awaiting the correct moment to act. The fact that the action might be fatal to the Skipper was completely beside the point, at least to the Skipper.

Jamie wasn't sure exactly what caused the Skipper to keep himself emotionally cut off. He knew about the early foster homes, and the criminal treatment he had endured in at least one of them. He even knew a little about the emotionless adoption that Lee had endured for almost 12 years before joining the Navy. Medical records told a story that made Jamie's heart ache for his friend. And, he did consider Lee Crane his friend, not just his most difficult patient. Lee Crane needed the _Seaview_, needed Chip, and Nelson, and the crew. The family he had never had. Jamie was not sure about what all had gone on during the last cruise. He did know that the foundation of caring, and friendship that Lee Crane had been building with the _Seaview_, and with Nelson, had begun crumbling. He had seen it in the golden eyes, as he had patched up the latest injuries. He wished that he could heal those hurts as easily, but there had been nothing he could do, and not long after, Lee Crane had disappeared.

Jamie shook himself from his thoughts as the radio operator indicated that a call was coming in, and switched it to the speaker. To say the effect of the voice that came over the speaker was explosive would not have been exaggerating. The voice of Lee Crane, distorted by distance and circumstances, was nonetheless easily identifiable by the three _Seaview_ men, and each reacted to hearing it for the first time in over a month.

Nelson started forward, as if to reach through the radio to touch the person speaking. The blood had gone from his face, leaving it pale beneath his tan, and Helmut Herrick grabbed his arm, almost afraid that his friend was having some type of episode. But instead of collapsing, or even responding to the touch, Nelson only murmured a name under his breath, "Lee…"

Chip Morton also went white, but then the blood came back to his face in a flush of anger. "God damn you Lee," he said out loud, his voice choked with emotion. He clenched his fist, and pounded it into the nearest bulkhead.

Jamie simply closed his eyes, and sent up a small prayer. _Of course_, he thought, _where else would you find Lee Crane, but in deep trouble_. He almost smiled at his own pun, deep trouble indeed.

Herrich, Knopf, and the radio operator were all staring at the _Seaview_ men as if they were crazy. "Harry," Herrich said to his friend, "What is it?"

Nelson swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and gestured at the radio, "Your new pilot, Cosigian, you said?" he questioned Knopf. "What's his first name, and what does he look like?" The intensity of his question took Knopf aback.

"His name is Lee Cosigian. He is about 6 feet 2inches tall, thin, with dark hair, and golden hazel eyes. Do you know him? We checked his references, they all checked out. There was no mention of the Nelson Institute."

The three _Seaview_ men exchanged glances. It seemed they had found their captain. Nelson ran a hand over his face, and felt his heart slowing back down from the racing staccato it had reached when that voice had come through the speaker.

"Yes, I do believe we know him. Rather well in fact." Nelson replied to the question. He moved forward again, gesturing imperiously to the radio operator to let him have access to the microphone. The speaker could have picked up his voice, but he wanted to be sure that he came across load and clear.

"_Anemone_, the is _Meer_. Please repeat your last message," he said into the mike, not bothering to identify himself. Lee would know who it was.

There was a pause, lengthening until everyone began to wonder if an answer would be coming, then there was a deep sigh heard over the speaker.

"Hello, Admiral. Is Chip there too?"

**Chapter 13- The **_**Anemone**_

_Oh crap! I'm dead!_ was the first thing that went through Lee's mind when he heard _that_ voice come over the radio, just like a teenager out past curfew and trying to sneak into the house after hours. Then he was just blank. He felt deep regret that the reunion had to be like this. In the last few hours he had finally came to the conclusion that he had been an idiot. He had allowed the past to dictate his future. He had let the ghosts of betrayal, and hurt that had haunted him since he could remember take him from all that he valued. He had hoped that he had more courage than that, but evidently not. And now the decision had been taken out of his hands by fate.

He wondered if deep down he had not known that it would be the _Seaview_ that would come for them. He had known that she was scheduled to do the supply run in the mid Pacific at this time, and she was the best rescue platform in the world as far as he was concerned. He had just not thought about it, and had gone on as if some other agency would come to the rescue. Now no matter what he said to his friends, he would be hard pressed to convince them that he had meant to return, with abject apologies for the hurt and worry he had caused. He wouldn't even have asked for his old job back, though he hoped it was still there for him. He would have to deal with the consequences of his actions.

He knew they were waiting for his answer, and he could not delay further. Time was running out for them here, and that had to come before his messed up life choices.

"Hello Admiral. Is Chip there?" he asked, proud of the steadiness of his voice. His head pounded a little bit more. It had really become quite annoying. He had fed the oxygen mainly to the research module, leaving himself with minimum levels, and the carbon dioxide build up was adding to what he suspected was a slight concussion. His arm had stopped hurting for the most part, but that was probably due to the numbing cold that had pretty much put him out of contact with most of his body. He had tried to keep himself from stiffening up by using the isometric exercises that he had learned years before, but you could only do so much in the cramped space of the module. He suspected that while his friends, he hoped he could still call them that, would already be mad at him, his being injured and not having mentioned it previously would probably piss them off even more. Time to take the initiative and keep this on a business-like level.

Before the answer could come back he spoke again. "I'm glad you're here sir. I assume you are going to use the diving Bell. I am afraid that our window has narrowed a bit. The oxygen recycling system is showing signs of stress. It is down to 75 output. I estimate that we'll be able to hold out for about 4 and ½ hours more without problem. Then it's going to get a bit stuffy."

_Oh, that's good Lee,_ he thought as he finished broadcasting. _The smart ass attitude will really make everyone happy._

This time there was no opportunity for him to continue speaking, as Nelson was on the radio.

"The Bell is ready to go now. We'll be maneuvering _Seaview_ into position in 10 minutes. Then we'll drop the Bell. We should be there in just over three hours. Can you detach from the research module if necessary?" It seemed the Admiral was going to be carefully business-like as well.

"Roger on the time. Negative on the separation. I am not leaving the research module."

Nelson's voice took on an icy chill which made Lee even colder. "I didn't ask if you wanted to, Commander. I asked if you could, if it became necessary to save your lives that is, separate the modules."

_Oh yeah, he's pissed,_ Lee thought. He took a moment ad then answered equally coolly, "My mistake, I misunderstood. Yes, The modules will release. I will of course do what ever is necessary to make sure we all get back to the surface, together." He emphasized the last word intentionally. He wasn't going to back down on this matter. There was no way he would save himself, and leave the others here, even if temporarily.

"I'm so glad we could come to an understanding about that. Now, Dr. Jamison would like to know exactly what injuries he can expect after you are brought to the surface."

_Oh, great_, Lee thought, _Jamie too_. He was batting a thousand so far.

"I'll hook you up to the folks in the research module, they can tell you themselves." He switched the broadcast priority to the other module and sat back. He'd pay for that, he knew. Ignoring Harriman Nelson was something that few got away with, and ignoring Jamie was almost as hard. He just didn't wish to add to the fuss for a bump on the head and a burn that just need a shot of bactine. He pulled the blanket tighter around him, and looked at the thermometer on the bulkhead: 28 degrees. That was not good. Hypothermia he didn't need. Lowered body temperature was not something that could be ignored. If he were unconscious when they reached the surface he would never get away from Jamie. He definitely didn't want to have a reunion with Nelson and Morton in the sickbay. Talk about a disadvantage.

He listened as the research module signed off. The intercom buzzed.

"You were very naughty, Lee. Why do you not wish to talk to the Admiral? Do you know him?" Renate asked. He was sure that everyone else was listening also.

"Yes, I do know him. We don't have anything to worry about now. The Admiral and _Seaview_ will take care of us, and we'll be back to the surface in no time. We won't even have to go all the way up on our own. We can hitch a ride with _Seaview_ for the last 1000 feet. We'll be up on the _Meer_ sipping a hot cup of Greta's coffee before you know it." He mentally crossed his fingers hoping Renate wouldn't push the question.

"No, I am not going away. Tell us why you are at daggers drawn with the man who is going to get us out of this mess. We have nothing but time, so talk."

She wasn't going to go away, and there wasn't the radio protocol that had held Nelson back. He was stuck.

"I uh… I used to… work for the Nelson Institute." That seemed to be rather noncommittal.

"It was not on your resume." Equally noncommittal, and damning in its lack of a question.

"I… left under… difficult circumstances. I didn't want them to know where I was working. It was personal, not because of a problem on the job, I swear."

"No, I did not think that. But I think that you need to talk about it. The sadness, I have seen it in your eyes. Is what happened the reason? Did you lose someone?"

"No… I... I don't really feel comfortable talking about this." Lee tried the direct approach. Maybe that would get him off the hook. No such luck.

"I am sure you do not. You men, always keeping it all inside. Not manly to talk of such things. Why you do not simply get it out and deal with it rather than letting it eat at you, I will never know. What ever you say will not go beyond this vessel. Get it off your chest. We are bored with fixing each other's lives; it is now your turn. We need something to do, and you are, what is the expression, fresh meat. Talk."

The last was a command, and Lee found himself wanting to talk. He was tired of doing this on his own. He needed an opinion from someone outside the matter, and here was the perfect opportunity.

"Okay. Here goes. I was involved in a mission for the Institute. It was classified, so I can't tell you details. Someone told the Admiral, and my friend Chip Morton, the Executive Office of the boat, that I was trying to cause the mission to fail." It was a simplistic version, but who would believe evil twins wondering around working for foreign governments? "They just took this person's word that it was me. Just like that. Even though they had known me for years. Even though I trusted them with... everything. Chip was my best friend, the Admiral… well I saw the Admiral as a father, the father I never had. They tried to make me confess that I was trying to ruin the mission. I didn't have any idea what was going on, and all I could see was my friends treating me like I was some traitor. They pushed harder and harder, and I just got more confused. Things kept going wrong, and while they saw it as _me_ trying to sabotage the mission, I'm trying to figure out what's going on not only with the boat but also with my friends. When the mission was over, and it turned out to be someone else, they both apologized. Once they told me what was going on I understood, on one level, that they had done what they had to do, but I just couldn't get over the fact that they suspected me so easily, without any questions. What did they see in me that made them think I could do that? What had I done? It made me feel… disposable. I just couldn't get past that. And I did what I had done all my life, I ran." He paused, giving a small laugh with no humor in it.

"I should have stayed, should have told them how angry it made me that they could do something like that. Worked it out. I was coming to that realization slowly before this even happened. Sitting here like a bump waiting to be rescued just gave me the time to really think about it. Now I'm really screwed. They won't believe I was going to come back anyway now. And to top it off, they have to _rescue_ me. Sometimes I think the universe hates me. I burned all my bridges, and now I have nowhere to go."

With that last self-pitying thought he was quiet, waiting for the response from the other module. It seemed to go on for a long time. Finally Renate spoke, once again acting as the voice of the others it seemed.

"I must admit that this is not what I was expecting. I thought maybe the Admiral's wife had taken a liking to you, and he was wanting to shoot you out a torpedo tube or something." Lee smiled, not mentioning how the threat had come up over the years. "But Lee, did they not try to talk to you, your friends that is, they must have wanted you to stay."

"I didn't tell them I was going. I just packed up and left." He didn't want to tell them the rest. In retrospect it seemed rather extreme, even to him, to completely change his name and disappear.

"Surely they looked for you. The scientific community is not that large. If you were at Woods Hole, the Admiral would have been able to find you easily."

Lee didn't answer. He couldn't. It was all starting to be so childish. He had acted like a five year old. _Things aren't going my way, so I'm not going to play anymore_. He had figuratively taken his ball and gone home. Great, so much for growing up, evidently he had wasted all those years.

"Lee, are you there?" Renate said, "Don't stop now. We are riveted. This is more fun then your American soap operas. Now, why did the Admiral and your friends not find you?"

"I… changed my name, and faked a resume to get this job. I just... disappeared" There is was. Out in the open.

The silence seemed to grow. How could a lack of sound grow? He wasn't sure, but it seemed to be getting deeper than the water around them.

"Oh, my friend," Renate said finally. "I am sorry."

That was the last thing Lee had expected. Sympathy was the last thing he had thought to hear.

"I will not ask how you managed to fake the references. It is obvious that you are very good at what you do. I do not believe we would have survived if Hans had been at the helm. He does not _feel_ the vessel like you do. That is a rare gift. I am sure that your friends value that gift. I am also sure that they value _you_. I think you are not an easy man to get to know, but I think you are very much worth the effort. In the short time that I have known you I have come to like you quite a lot Lee Cosigian… what is your real name by the way?"

"Lee Crane."

"The Admiral called you 'Commander'. Are you in the Navy?"

"Yes… I mean I was in the reserve. I resigned when I... left two months ago."

"A Commander is almost a captain, no?" she said. He could hear the others talking in the background. It sounded like they were asking questions. "What did you do at N.I.M.R? Did you pilot their submersible?"

Here was the big one. He was feeling stupider by the second. Just look what he had given up in his little temper tantrum. If he just had this discussion with someone before, he would have never left.

"I was the Captain of the _Seaview_, for two years."

More silence, followed by a babble of German voices. Finally he heard Renate shoosh them all.

"Oh, you are a devious man Lee Crane. You drop the big bombs so casually! You have many secrets, and we are going to have to pull them out of you one at a time I can see. This will make the time go so much faster." She giggled, a strange sound Lee thought, coming from a fifty-something Renate, a biologist who was one of the tops in her field. "We are all ready to psychoanalyze you. The doctors are in." This last she said seriously in English. With her German accent she sounded just like those comic imitations of Freud.

Lee rolled his eyes, and shrugged the blanket more tightly around his ears to keep the cold from creeping down his collar. Oh, he was in for an interesting three hours.

**Chapter 14-The **_**Seaview**_

"Damn him!" Nelson said, pacing around the table in the nose. The crash doors were closed, cutting down the area he could use to walk off his frustration. "We search for the man for two months, and nothing. Then we come to the scene of a potential disaster, and there he is. Only Lee Crane could be that contrary!" He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, ignoring Jamie's look. He didn't have time for Jamie's disapproval. He wanted to talk to Lee, to shake him until he listened. To let him know that he was the son that Nelson had never though he would have. To tell him that he was... loved.

Chip snorted, "Why are you surprised? The man is a trouble magnet." He pounded a fist on the table where he sat. "I knew we'd have to rescue him before I could kill him." He had almost passed out from relief after that first flash of anger at hearing Lee's voice. Then he had felt another rush of anger as he thought about the situation they had found him in. Then another flash to full-scale worry. That at least was a familiar feeling where Lee Crane was concerned He had moved almost mechanically back to the _Seaview_ with Nelson, Jamison, and Knopf. Once aboard he had gotten them underway to the coordinates. They would maneuver over the area, and holding just above crush depth, the Bell would be lowered. Then Nelson, Sharkey, Ski, and Knopf would free the submersible and after securing it to the Bell, the _Seaview_ would hoist both back up. It wouldn't require much work on Morton's part, and would give him plenty of time to plot revenge on his friend. Though not before he to let Lee know exactly how he felt first. He would not make the same mistake twice.

Will Jamison watched as Nelson circled the nose, and Chip sat staring out the windows, a thoughtful look on his face. He knew that both the men had been shocked to hear Lee Crane's voice come from the speaker, and that they were dealing as best they could with the conflicting feelings that Crane's reappearance caused. He himself had felt a profound sense of relief to know that Crane was found. The fact that he was once more in a life-threatening situation, imparted an almost comforting sense of normalcy that had been missing from the _Seaview_ since the young captain had disappeared. He suspected that it would not be long until the Skipper was once again in his domain, exercising his wiles to get out as soon as possible. Jamie also suspected that he would be grateful for the vacation from the usual arguing it took to keep the Captain in sickbay. But in the last 2 months he had come to realize that boring was not what he wanted. If he had wanted that he could have had a position on shore, or on a regular Navy submarine, treating athletes foot and the occasional bout of post liberty 'seasickness'. No, he found that he very much preferred the hectic roller coaster ride that service aboard the_Seaview_ had become since Lee Crane had become her captain. He had quite lost his taste for merry-go-rounds.

All three men started as the intercom clicked on "Admiral Nelson, Commander Morton, to the control room please," O'Brien's voice said. It was time to go get their captain.

Chip hit the button to open the crash doors, and followed Nelson and Jamie through as they opened. "Status?" he said to O'Brien who was stepping away from the charting table.

"We are at station keeping over the co-ordinates. The Chief and Kowalski are standing by in the Missile room, along with Dr. Knopf."

Nelson nodded and with a pat on Chip's back headed toward the aft hatch. "We'll keep in touch. You might want to get your sickbay ready Will." This last he directed at Jamison.

"Way ahead of you Admiral. John and Frank have been prepping the place since they heard the Skipper was down there." The _Seaview_ grapevine had once again outraced any expectations. The three officers had hardly made it back to the boat before word had spread from the officers to the lowliest cooks assistant.

Nelson cast a grin back at Jamison, and disappeared down the companionway. Chip sighed.

"Now we get to wait." Everyone in the control room nodded. It wasn't going to be easy.

**Chapter 15- The **_**Anemone**_**-2 hours late**r

Renate Knopf looked again at the oxygen indicators on the board to her right. She had made sure that no one else in the module could see that portion of the board. Shortly after they had found themselves stuck here she had happened to glance at the indicator and had noticed it had dropped from the level it should have been. It had noticeably dropped as she watched. A few discrete inquiries to the onboard computer had yielded the fact that the oxygen recycler for the research module was failing at an alarming rate. In a matter of less than 30 minutes they would be out of oxygen. She had felt herself pale, but had hidden her unease from the others, who were attempting to arrange themselves in more comfortable positions for the long wait. She was just getting ready to contact Cosigian when she noticed the levels rising. She was puzzled for a moment. All the readings from the computer indicated that the module's oxygen recycling plant was dead. It was a puzzle for a moment until she recalled something Hans, the regular pilot, had told her.

Nelson had put in a redundant system. Either module could supply oxygen for a limited time to the other module, though the levels would be less than optimal. She was not sure how long that could go on, and she was equally sure that the research module should be getting a lot less than they were. But, she could say nothing. She didn't want the others to panic, and Cosigian was the captain of the vessel. It was his choice. Just as she said nothing when the question had been raised about Cosigian being able to separate the pilot's module and surface. He couldn't do that without killing them all in the research module. However, he had made no reference to that fact, so she had remained quiet. Her estimation of the young man had risen. There were few men who could resist at least mentioning their heroic act. This man seemed to be determined that no one knew what he was doing. If she hadn't seen the indicator, and hadn't taken the time with Hans to familiarize herself with the systems, she would never have known. She also suspected there were other things the young man was not saying. She had heard the soft gasp as he shifted, and the slight chatter of teeth. He was hurt and cold. Her heart went out to him. A lonely man, made lonelier by circumstances, and his own tragic past. After hearing his story she found herself slightly angry with everyone involved. Lee Crane for stupidly running off and leaving his family to worry, his self-adopted family for not trusting an obviously trustworthy man enough to question "orders", and fate in general for the whole problem to begin with. Why couldn't men talk? They had finally pried the story out of Lee Crane, one reluctant piece at a time. How supposedly educated, intelligent men could foul something up so badly she couldn't comprehend. It was not her business, and Dieter would have a kitten, but she was going to be sure that this was all straightened out before Lee Crane disappeared from their lives. It was the least she could do for the man who had kept them alive long enough to be rescued.

She stretched her legs out as far as the cramped quarters would allow. It was not always good to be tall. The other three scientists were sleeping. Bundled together as much as possible against the cold, it had reached 41 degrees, it seemed the best way to pass the time now that rescue was on the way and every facet of everyone's life had been thoroughly examined and discussed. She reached for the intercom mike.

"Are you awake Lee?" she said softly, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping.

"Yes," came the answer, equally softly.

"I am sorry that we turned our attentions to you. You are not a man that shares personal information easily. We tend to forget that everyone does not. We have gotten used to each other over the years working together as we have. I hope you know we appreciate that you did so, and helped us pass the time."

"Don't want you getting bored back there, Doc. You give me a bad report when we get to the surface, and I won't be able to get any other customers. I may just be completely out of work when we get there, I'll need the good reference."

"I don't think you need to worry about that. The voice of the man that I heard, the Admiral you called him? There was anger there yes, but there was relief too. I think you will be fine," she said. Silently she added, _I'll make sure of that_.

"Your mouth to God's ear," Lee said. He wanted to be back where he belonged. He wanted to have what he had tossed away in his haste to protect himself from what he now knew were old hurts. Buried deep in his subconscious were habits of behavior that he needed to break. They weren't needed anymore.

"I have every evidence he is listening today," she said. "It will be soon, Yes?"

"If you hear someone knocking it will be them, only an hour or so more. They have to move slowly once they enter the trench. The currents can be treacherous, and they don't have the control that the submersible offers."

A sudden realization came to Renate. "You were involved with the creation of this submersible, weren't you? That's why you are so familiar with the systems on a new submersible."

"Test pilot," he said, a little bit of smugness in his voice. "That just made this job all the more appealing. Nothing makes you look quite as good as being familiar with the equipment."

"You are very naughty," she chided, "but I like that in a fellow. You remind me very much of my brother Stephan. He also is too sly for his own good. He is also, how do you say it in English…?" She paused. "Long, dark, and handsome?"

Lee laughed, "I think you mean 'tall'." He repeated the word in English for her.

"Yes, tall," she said, speaking German again. She became serious, her voice still low. "What if they can not move the rocks?"

There was silence for a moment. "I don't really think it will be a problem, but then they can connect the Bell to the upper hatch and take you up in the Bell." His voice became regretful. "I'd hate to leave her down here though, it just wouldn't seem right. She got us this far. It's a cold and lonely place."

She smiled. All of the men who loved the sea were poets at heart. They felt deeply, even if they didn't show it. Always the ship, always the crew. Gunnar, the captain of the _Meer_ was such a man. Crusty and blunt, he loved his ship with a fierce passion. Hearing the regretful note in the voice of Lee Crane, she now knew what had sparked the then seemingly unlikely friendship she had seen growing between the two men. Often they could be seen, side-by-side on the bridge. Sitting silently, gazing at the sea. Lee had been the only one of the scientific party allowed in the 'holy of holies' as the others described the bridge. Gunnar had tolerated Dieter's presence only when absolutely necessary, and the idea of a woman being allowed there was not even considered. She suspected he didn't even like them being aboard, of having the old sailor's superstition about women being bad luck on a ship. She now saw that Gunnar and Lee were two of a kind, even with 40 years between them.

"We will keep a good thought. Your Admiral will do his best for us I think. Could you tell me about him, I have heard quite a lot, but I would like to know him from someone who has actually spent time with him."

"He's not an easy man to know, or to get along with, but he is a genius. I met him first when I was…" And so the time passed.

**Chapter 16-The Diving Bell**

Nelson, Sharkey, Ski, and Knopf had loaded into the Bell, and had gotten underway to the _Anemone_. It was close quarters, but Knopf was amazed at how much more room there was in the Bell as opposed to previous ones he had been in. His first deep-sea experience had been in a cramped, cold first generation bathysphere. This was a definite improvement. It had taken a few minutes for everyone to get settled as they began lowering toward the bottom. Nelson had spent some time working with a bank of instruments on the wall of the Bell that Knopf recognized as advanced sampling instruments. Instruments that he knew most of his oceanographers would mortgage their souls for a chance at. After that they had settled in for the long trip down, and Knopf had found his curiosity coming back to the fore. He wanted to know what had gone on in the radio room. It had something to do with the new pilot, but he hadn't figured it out. It seemed that these men knew Lee Cosigian, and they were not happy about finding him here.

"Admiral, I hope you forgive my curiosity, but I was wondering do you know Cosigian, our pilot? It seemed so in the radio room."

Nelson gave a harrumph, and the two crewmen seemed to squirm in their seats and exchanged meaningful glances. The slim dark haired man smiled a little, but dipped his head quickly as if to hide it from the Admiral.

"Yes Doctor, you could say I know your pilot, very well as a matter of fact," came the acerbic answer.

"Please, call me Dieter. I do not understand, Cosigian did not list N.I.M.R on his resume, did he work for you?"

There was a kind of half muffled snicker from one of the two crewmen, or perhaps both. The Admiral sent a withering glance in their direction.

"I am afraid that you don't know everything about Mr… Cosigian is it. In fact I can tell you for certain that the resume didn't tell you much at all about him."

Knopf was puzzled, it seemed there was something going on, but the signals he was getting were mixed. The Admiral was frustrated and angry, the crewmen, the ones her in the Bell, and the ones on the boat were happy and amused. What was going on?

"I am afraid I do not understand Admiral. You seem to be indicating that Cosigian is not what he has presented himself to be, that he is a fraud?"

"Oh, Cosigian is a fraud all right!" Nelson said, as he rose to his feet and went back to the instruments as if to adjust something. Nothing needed adjustment though, and he resumed his seat. He seemed to need to pace. Not something he could do in a diving Bell. "However, the man is not a fraud. I can assure you even without seeing the resume, that everything on it he can do."

Nelson saw by Knopf's puzzled frown that he had not been clear.

"What I mean Doctor, excuse me Dieter, is that the man is not Lee Cosigian, his name is Lee Crane, and he was, up until two months ago, the captain of the _Seaview_."

Knopf stared at Nelson, trying to follow. "But his resume, he had references. I called them myself. They verified the information."

"Yes, they would have. Lee, Commander Crane that is, has a lot of … friends. They simply agreed to back up his resume when someone called. As I said, he is eminently qualified to do the job, so no one technically lied other than about his name."

"I don't understand. Why? The captain of the _Seaview_, piloting our submersible under an assumed name, it makes no sense."

"I couldn't agree more, Dieter. It doesn't make sense, but human emotions are often not subject to making sense." Nelson sighed, and glanced at the two crewmen. Both were trying to look as if they were somewhere else, and were not listening with every pore. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning, though some is classified. It began a little over two months ago…."

The Bell continued toward the bottom, and the _Anemone_.

**Chapter 17-The **_**Anemone**_** and the Bell**

"_Anemone_ this is the Bell, we have you in sight, you should be seeing our lights," Sharkey's voice echoed through the pilot module.

Lee pushed back the blanket he had wrapped tightly around him, and reached for the mike. Looking out the windows, he could indeed see a light.

"This is the _Anemone_. We have your light, Bell. Looks like you're above us and to our aft starboard side. Nice of you to drop by."

"Good to hear your voice Skipper!" Sharkey replied enthusiastically "We're moving over toward you now. The Admiral is going to evaluate the damage, and we'll start moving off the debris."

So, that explained why the Admiral wasn't on the radio, at least it was a plausible reason. Lee sighed, his breath visible in the frigid air of the module. "I'll be waiting. Please be quiet about it will you, the folks in the back are trying to get a nap."

A new voice joined in. "We do not mind if they are noisy, as long as they are fast," Renate said in English.

"Renate, my love, you make it difficult for me. I have come at last to rescue you in true white knight fashion and all you want is fast."

"Dieter it is good to hear your voice. I did not know you were coming. I would have changed into something nicer and cleaned up."

"I will take you as you are." His voice became serious. "I have missed you."

"And I you," she replied.

"The Admiral says his going to begin moving some of the smaller rocks. He asks that you report any changes to your situation."

Lee stepped back into the conversation. "Understood."

After 15 minutes the _Anemone_ was free of the debris on the aft section.

Lee, who had been watching via camera, shrugged off the blanket and prepared to check out the controls.

"I'm not counting on the port steering at all. I can compensate with the starboard steering planes," Lee said in reply to a query about his ability to steer the vessel while they were hooking the two up. Discussions regarding how to secure the _Anemone_ to the Bell had resulted in the decision that the simplest way would be to attach the Bell and science modules hatch to hatch. They hatches were made to be compatible, and the safeties would engage to hold the two together. With some additional lashings it would serve to keep the two together they were raised to ward Seaview. Once they were at that level. The Bell would be disengaged, and then the Anemone could make the final distance alone, followed at a safe distance by the large vessel. The procedure would require Lee to maneuver as best he could, and the Bell's arm would do the rest.

"Can you raise her off the bottom?" finally Admiral Nelson's voice spoke over the radio. Completely business like.

"I'll attempt blowing ballast as soon as you move off. We'll come out of this mud like a cork." Lee replied

There was a delay as Nelson contacted the Seaview had had the Bell raised, "All right bring her up" he said after the Bell had retreated up about 40 feet.

Lee bent his fingers, and then rubbed his hands together to get them warmed to a point that they could function reliably. He didn't need to add to the problem by hitting the wrong buttons because his fingers were numb.

He brought up the propulsion unit, engaging it slowly; the Bell had cleared all the debris, but there could be damage to the blades. They were made from titanium, like the rest of the vessel, but they could have taken a bad hit. Visual inspection by those in the Bell had revealed no visible problem, but he didn't want to take a chance and put strain to it. He then carefully began blowing the ballast tanks.

"Keep your fingers crossed, everyone," he said.

Nelson was looking out the small window at the submersible. He had seen the propeller start, and then had heard Lee's voice over the radio as the ballast tanks began to blow. As they started to empty, the fine sediment of the trench bottom billowed up around the submersible hiding it from the people in the Bell. It was just a matter of time now, either the small vessel would rise out of the cloud of sediment, or they would have to go back down to them and grapple them into place with the arm. It would not be as secure, and there would be no escape should any of the submersible's systems fail. Not that Lee could escape anyway in that case. With the hatch jammed between the pilot and science modules, the only way out for Lee was to surface. If the Pilot module were separated he could surface in the moon pool, but Nelson was somewhat suspicious of the condition, not of the module, but of the pilot. He had known Lee Crane for many years now, and had yet to hear the man notify anyone of an injury or illness unless backed to the wall. With the depths separating them, there was no way for Nelson to verify what his instincts were telling him. He was glad however that Jamie was prepared.

He looked back at the other men in the Bell. They too were looking out the windows, waiting for the _Anemone_ to rise out of the sediments. He had been reticent with Knopf about the extent of the mission that had caused Lee to flee the _Seaview_ and his friends. He had seen the guilt cross Sharkey's face when he had mentioned a saboteur, though the fact that he had been replaced with a double was not his fault. He somehow doubted that it was the sabotage part that bother the chief so much as the fact that the Skipper had been hurt by the whole process enough to leave. The crew was extremely devoted to Lee. In fact he had seen Kowalski fight down a comment that he was sure would not have been kind to his superiors when Nelson had mentioned being ordered to crack the saboteur. Kowalski had been one of Lee's staunchest supporters ever since just after the first cruise.

Nelson turned back to the window, and hid a small smile. How the crew had resented Lee that first cruise. They would have hated anyone taking John Phillips place, but the brash, competent, and incredibly young Crane had been salt to the wounds. But, Harriman Nelson had watched Crane since meeting him at Annapolis, and he had seen in the younger man something that had made a deep and lasting impact. Talent, integrity, honor, intelligence, courage, everything that a captain had to be was there in Lee Crane. His years in the Navy, and in ONI, had simply honed the skills that had been there naturally. There had been no one else for the job as far as Nelson was concerned, and there was no one else now.

"Come on Lee," he muttered, and almost as if his words had worked some magic, the hull of the _Anemone_ rose out of the sediments toward the Bell. She had a distinct list to port, and he could see that steering was a problem, but she was moving, and that was the important thing now. He grabbed the mike.

"Do you have camera for the hatch match up, or do we need to talk you in?" he asked

"I have cameras," came Lee's answer, sounding tense. "She doesn't want to steer, this isn't going to be pretty. Hang on everyone. Here we go."

Nelson watched as the module, listing almost 25 to port, moved up under the Bell. He had switched on the cameras on the bottom of the Bell, giving them a complete view of the approaching submersible. He watched as Lee, using the ballast tanks to level the vessel maneuvered into position. The man was a superb pilot. Lee's 'baby', the flying sub, had missed his gentle touch in the last two months. Nelson swore that it flew better for Lee than for anyone else, even her inventor. Now he watched that same prowess come to the fore as the vessel nudged against the Bell. The two hatches coupling easily on the first try. He had seen other pilots, with undamaged vessels and under less stressful circumstances, take two or three tries to make the delicate match-up.

Had he never let Lee know that he valued him for more than just for that inborn talent? Had it appeared he only wanted the best tool to further his own aims? Nelson was not a man comfortable with expressing his feelings to others. He had lost his parents in his late teens, and his life at sea had taken him away from Edith, his now deceased sister. Naval command did not encourage the expression of feelings. A captain, or any officer for that matter, was expected to _act_, not feel. He wondered for a moment about Edith. Had he told her what she meant to him before she died? Had she known the love he had felt for her? She had everything she had wanted materially, had she also been fulfilled emotionally? Nelson hoped so. And now there was Lee. When Edith had died he had felt very alone. He knew that he would have no children. He had expected Edith to marry, and he would become the fond uncle, and they would become the recipient, and eventual guardians of his legacy. But that dream had died with Edith.

Lee remained however, and sometime without him realizing it between that lonely feeling and now, Lee had become the recipient of those feelings. He was the one, with Chip at his side, who would take the Nelson Institute into the future after Nelson was gone. He had known that they shared the same love of the sea, if not the scientific knowledge about it. Lee would be sure that the principles that Nelson had set forth would continue to be paramount. His dream would live on through Lee, and Lee's children after him.

But had he ever _told_ Lee that? No, he had just gone on as before. Enjoying the time spent with his Captain and friend, and acting as if nothing had changed. He felt a flush color his face, and hoped that the others were too focused on the docking maneuver to notice. He had been at fault. He hadn't let Lee know. He had taken Lee for granted, and Lee had rebelled. Nelson had done the same thing his adopted family had done, used him. Damn it!

The last docking clamp clanked into place, and the Bell shuddered as the weight of the submersible was taken up by the Bell. It was time to begin the long trip to the surface.

**Chapter 18- The **_**Anemone**_

"We have a lock. Propulsion is shut down ready to equalize buoyancy. Ready to haul away when you are, Bell," he said, shutting down the propulsion units. They would not be needed. He would need to coordinate the ballast releases as they rose, hauled up by the cable. He was concerned about the oxygen recycling system. It was beginning to feel the strain of processing all the air in both modules for too long. It had been set up as an emergency back up for the science module to be used over the course of a few hours when the science module's own system was operating at a lower level, not as a complete replacement. He tried not to look at the dropping levels, and wondered that no one in the science module had noted the change. Perhaps the gauge was one of the victims of the crash. Just as well.

"Very good Sir, " came Sharkey's voice, "We are contacting _Seaview_ now, and will begin hauling in A.S.A.P. Stand by."

There was a pause of a few moments then a jolt as the _Seaview's_ giant capstan took up the slack on the cable and began to hoist the Bell and submersible back toward the surface.

An hour later Dieter, Renate, and Nelson were discussing a point of oceanographic interest over the radio, when an alarm began sounding in the submersible. Lee, who had been on the circuit, but not conversing could be heard cursing in the background. After a brief pause the cursing started up again.

"Admiral, you'll have to take them into the Bell, the oxygen recycler is failing! I have about 30 minutes left at breathable levels."

"The redundant system…" the Admiral began.

"We're working on the redundant system now! " Lee said, his voice indicating that he was not prepared to discuss why. "You need to take them off. That will give me approximately 45 minutes of air. We should be able to make it to the _Seaview_ and I can separate and surface in the moon pool."

Nelson looked at the fathometer, and did a rapid calculation in his head. "We're an hour from reaching the _Seaview_. You'll be out of air before we're there." He kept his voice steady only with years of practice in remaining calm in the face of impending disaster.

"I'll turn it down to the lowest level and keep my activity to a minimum. It'll have to stretch," an equally calm answer came.

Nelson shook his head. "It's not a rubber band, Lee. When it's gone, it's gone. What if you separated and surfaced alone?" Neither man noticed that the Admiral had used Crane's first name for the first time since they had been reunited so to speak.

There was a pause as Lee did his own calculations. As a master diver decompression charts and figures were a natural thing for him. "If I push up the decompression 3 minutes at each stop I can shave off a little over 20 minutes. That should do it."

There was a crackle from the radio as another voice cut in. "This is Jamison. I don't advise that Captain. I don't have to tell you the effects of the bends, especially at these depths." Jamie's voice was firm.

"I can survive the bends Jamie, suffocation is a little more permanent," came the calm reply.

Nelson could practically hear Jamison grinding his teeth in the face of Lee's nonchalance. He noticed that Jamie didn't mention any of the horrifying side effects that a case of the bends could have. Side effects that could end the career of a diver. "We'll have the decompression chamber standing by," Jamie said finally, once again bowing before the stubbornness of his captain.

Another voice came over the line, and Nelson realized that this was possibly the last chance to speak with Lee until he reached the _Seaview_. He refused to accept that Lee _wouldn't_ reach the _Seaview_ alive. They would have to limit communications to a minimum so that Lee could conserve his oxygen. He had to be conscious when he reached_Seaview_ so that he could maneuver into the moon pool. There would be no way for the _Seaview_ to reach him otherwise. At just under crush depth the divers and the flying sub were useless.

"Good Luck, Lee," Chip said, getting in what could be a last word to his friend.

"Thanks."

Nelson motioned to Sharkey and Kowalski, who had been standing by, both pale under their sea tans. "Lee, we're opening the Bell's hatch now."

"Affirmative, I'm disengaging the safety lock on the module hatch."

Yet another voice came on the radio, and Nelson had a sudden vision of a small town party line with everyone in town on the line listening in on the conversations. "Lee Crane. I _will_ see you on the _Seaview_. You promised me a tour, and I will hold you to the promise. Also, Soren has said that he has a new shipment of cookies coming in the mail from his wife. You would not miss such an opportunity, would you?" Renate Knopf sounded upbeat, and cheerful, as if they were only separating for a few moments.

Nelson smiled a sad smile to himself. Lee and his cookies! The man would live on cookies and coffee if Jamie would let him get away with it.

There was a clanking sound as Sharkey pulled back the hatch, and then another as the hatch below dropped down. A head appeared in the hatchway.

"Renate my love, you are a sight for sore eyes," Knopf spoke, and moved to help the tall woman with her hair in a long braid down her back. The hair had once been all blond, but now sported a good portion of gray that the woman had made no attempt to hide. Nelson was at once reminded of the robust Viking warrior women, theValkaries of Wagner's operas. Not that this woman was overweight, as the caricature of the opera singers that sang Wagner's lines. She was, Nelson searched for a word, ample, but obviously fit and content with herself. The two Germans shared a brief hug, and then moved aside as the other three scientists climbed into the Bell. Nelson could see they were bruised, and scraped, and one had his arm in a sling held tightly against his chest.

It was very crowded. A situation that did not really improve even after Sharkey closed the two hatches. It was not going to be a comfortable trip, but at least everyone would be able to breathe. The Bell had plenty of reserves and its own back up oxygen scrubber. They arranged themselves as best they could. Nelson had positioned himself next to the mike, and he reached for it now, just barely able to do so without elbowing Kowalski in the face.

"They're aboard, Lee."

"Affirmative. I have set the ballast release on the science module to automatic. I am beginning to separate the modules now." There was a shudder through the Bell as the modules released, and the smaller pilot module rose away from the other, and came up level with the Bell. It was fully maneuverable in its own right, and Lee handled it easily without the awkward, damaged bulk of the vessel attached. "_Seaview_, you'll have to keep me notified on depth, I have no fathometer or sonar. Don't want to bump into you in the dark."

"Roger that. We'll notify you at the appropriate stages, and clock your decompression. When you get close we'll turn on the porch light for you," Chip replied. "We ah… we won't expect much of an answer. You have to conserve oxygen. Breathe shallow, huh?"

The smile could be heard in Lee's voice. "I'll try not to get excited." A pause, then a serious note "I'll double click the mike. That way you don't have to wonder if I'm still hearing you. If I don't answer, get out of the way."

Another pause, and a sigh. "I wanted to say this face to face, and a little less publicly, but Chip, Admiral, I'm sorry… I just wasn't thinking. It was an unkind, ungrateful way to pay you back for the years of friendship we've shared, and I cannot tell you how I have valued those years. I built up expectations in my head, left over from when I was a kid, and those ideals were never really… reachable. Just childish views of how the world should be, how people should be, and I… guess I never really outgrew them. Silly really, and no excuse." He trailed off.

"We'll talk when you get here Lee. You'll be spending a long time in that decompression chamber, you'll be a captive audience," Chip said after a moment. He too was reluctant to speak so publicly, but he couldn't let Lee be the only one to take a chance. "It'll be OK, Lee. We'll work it out. That's what friends, and family, do."

Nelson listened to Chip's obviously heartfelt words, and felt a lump form in his throat. It seemed so easy for Chip. He came from a large family where fighting and making-up were regular happenings, so perhaps he had some insight on forgiving and being forgiven. But Nelson had no experience. He and Edith had experienced the regular family dissention, especially during her teenage years, but his position as much older brother/father figure had led to things being settled his way much of the time, and the give and take of the regular nuclear family had been missing.

All of a sudden he felt someone looking at him, and he looked up to find it was several someones. In fact everyone in the Bell was staring at him, waiting for him to do something. Renate Knopf seemed to be the worst one; her light blue eyes seemed to be boring into his. He could practically hear her shouting, "SAY SOMETHING!" Sharkey and Kowalski weren't any less obvious in their thoughts on the subject. He brought the mike, still in his hand, to his mouth.

"Lee…" He wasn't sure what to say. He had just recently come to the realization that there were things he needed to say, but they were not for public airing. Lee would not appreciate it, even given the circumstances. What to say _now_, that was something he had not considered. Lee, sometimes a mind reader where Nelson was concerned, stepped into rescue his superior once again.

"I know, Admiral. Like Chip said, I'll be a captive audience for a while in Jamie's torture chamber. We'll have time to talk then."

Nelson couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping, and he looked around the Bell. "I don't think I'm going to have much choice in that Lee. It seems several interested parties will be sure that we have that talk."

Lee laughed too, and seemed to understand. "She's pushy but she makes a very nice strudel. If she wasn't married I'd scoop her up." He paused, and the module flared a light at the Bell. "So long for now. See you on the _Seaview_." They watched as the module began to rise faster than the Bell was moving. The light slowly faded as it moved swiftly upward, then there was only the darkness around the Bell.

**Chapter 19-**_**Anemone**_** Pilot module-40 minutes later**

He wasn't going to make it.

He had skimmed three minutes off each decompression stop; he had been as inactive as possible to lower the oxygen demand. He had replied only with the two mike clicks when the _Seaview_ had reported his depth and decompression time. But he still wasn't going to make it. The red warning light was flashing continuously, and his onboard computer had very starkly reported that his oxygen was going to be gone in about five minutes. It would be another fifteen before he could dock with _Seaview_, since he had one more decompression stop coming up. There was no choice, he would have to just blow through the stop and go straight in.

He had already started to feel the joint aches every experienced diver associated with the effects of decompression sickness, or the bends, as they were commonly known. Missing the last stop could let him in for some permanent damage that Jamie and nature could not repair. He had seen diver dying from the bends, and it was not a way that he wanted to go. He had also seen divers permanently disabled, consigned to life in a wheel chair or with crutches. Never to dive again, Lee would almost rather die then face a life without the sea, with_Seaview_. He shook his head. Enough of the negative thoughts. He needed to let Chip know what was happening. He knew Jamie would go ballistic, but Chip would understand, and so would Nelson. He had to take the chance. It was the only thing left to do.

"_Seaview_ this is _Anemone_. I'm skipping the next decompression and upping my rate of ascent, turn on the lights, I'm coming in hot and low on air."

"Lee, what's the situation?" Thank god for Chip. His cool head always made things easier for Crane.

"My oxygen is going to last about five minutes more. I have to get in now. I'm beginning to blow ballast."

He could feel the rapid increase in lift as he blew out his ballast faster than he had been, and suddenly there was light from above him, as _Seaview's_ powerful exterior floodlights came on. His legs and lower back were agonizing.

"I have your lights," he reported.

"250 feet to contact," came Chips voice. "You are 75 feet to port, amidships."

"Affirmative."

He began moving forward toward the lights, watching his rate of ascent, and preparing to slow for maneuvering. He would have only one shot. He was already having to strain to fill his lungs, he felt like he had run for miles. This was it.

Chip paced nervously from the sonar station to the radio room, a mike clutched in his hand. He had heard the breathlessness in his friend's voice even with the one word answer. He didn't even want to consider what the lack of decompression was doing to Lee.

"One hundred feet," Patterson said, his eyes glued to the screen.

"One hundred feet, Lee. Begin slowing now," Chip repeated into the mike. Everyone in the control room was listening, though the duty personnel kept close watch on their own stations. The Skipper would expect nothing less, and the wrath of the XO would be unbearable if he caught anyone not doing his duty, even if they were concerned about the Skipper.

The entire boat was listening on the intercom to the exchange on the radio. Will Jamison had flung up his hands and cursed under his breath as he fled the control room for the moon pool, and to check on the preparations in the decompression chamber with John and Frank over the intercom. He checked his medical supplies once again, going over the possible complications of decompression sickness in his mind. Add in a nice dose of anoxia, and what ever else the man had done to himself, and Jamison was not a happy man. He had wanted Crane back, but this was not what he had in mind. He should have known better. He glanced up as his two corpsmen came in carrying a stretcher. Chip Morton, Patterson, and Riley followed them. Chip glanced at Jamison, smiled grimly at his preparations and went to the wall-mounted mike.

"Control Room this is Morton, what's our status?" he said stiffly.

"50 feet sir. The Skipper reports he has a visual, and is maneuvering into position now. He'll be surfacing in the moon pool in about 30 seconds." Sparks paused. "Sir, he's barely able to talk now. I don't think there's much time left."

"Understood, Doc is standing by." Chip cast a glance at Jamie who was motioning Frank forward with a portable oxygen tank and mask. They were perched on the edge of the pool, ready to move as soon as Crane was out of the module. Chip looked at Patterson and Riley. "We'll lash the module to the side here. You two stand by as I go in. Only one of us can fit down in there with him. I'll unhook his harness and hoist him up to you. You pull him out and lower him down to Frank and John." They nodded. He looked at Jamie. "We can't be gentle, Jamie. It's not going to be easy getting him out. Is there anything we need to know, that you can think of?"

Jamie shook his head, "Not knowing what else he might have done to himself, there's not much I can add. He almost certainly will have started the joint pains in his legs and back. Any touch on his legs will be painful, so avoid that as much as possible. Try not to drag them. It is possible that the paraplegia has set in and he may not be able to move or feel anything from his waist down, but I'm hoping it hasn't progressed that far. He may or may not be conscious. It depends on his oxygen level. He may be combative coming out of it if he is unconscious when you get the hatch open. As soon as we determine his breathing status, and baring any unforeseen bleeding, we'll 'wrap and run' for the decompression chamber."

As Jamie finished the water in the moon pool began to bubble, and the module appeared. The windows were faced away from the waiting men, so they couldn't see Crane. The two seamen leaped to get lines on the module, and lashed it to the sides of the pool. Chip leaped onto the module, and was spinning the wheel on the hatch even as they were tugging it to the side. He glance quickly inside, and with a curse pushed himself inside.

His first glimpse of Lee Crane in over two months had shown the man feebly pulling at the harness buckles with his right hand, he was swathed in a blanket, and had a wool cap on his head. A dark shadow showed on his face from his beard, and emphasized the paleness of the skin underneath. A bandage, mostly hidden by the hat could be seen on his left temple. He was bent forward in the seat as if to ease a pain in his back, and Chip could see the tension in Crane's jaw from holding back a gasp of pain. As Chip had opened the hatch he had taken a huge gasp of air, and continued to breath heavily as Chip maneuvered his form into the space behind the chair. It was a tight fit.

"Welcome home Lee," he said, and reached around to help with the harness.

"Nice to be here," came the breathless answer, "got my room ready?"

"Yeah," Chip replied with an evil smile that he knew Lee would hear in his voice, "Jamie even has his boys ready to give you a ride there." Lee hated to be carried through the boat. He'd rather crawl under his own power.

"Great," Lee said, he knew he wouldn't be getting anywhere under his own power. He didn't want to mention to Chip that he was having intermittent loss of feeling in his legs... actually something of a mixed blessing since when he could feel his knees and ankles were agony, and his hands were starting to tingle. He shrugged out of the harness, barely suppressing a groan as his back protested, and his left arm seemed to drag every burnt spot against the nylon harness. When the burnt arm came into view he heard Chip curse.

"Damn it Lee, couldn't you have mentioned that, and this," he felt a gentle touch on his left temple. Chip silently cursed again when he felt the coolness of Lee's skin.

"Gives Jamie a challenge. Decompression sickness is boring. Got to spice it up for him, he's come to expect it from me. Don't want to let him down."

"He'll appreciate it I'm sure," was the sarcastic reply. Both men looked up as Patterson looked down through the hatch.

"We're ready Sirs," he said.

Lee nodded and started to lever himself up using the armrests; he felt Chip's hands go under his arms and felt himself being lifted. He raised his arms as best he could and felt Patterson grab his wrists. He stifled another groan as Chip transferred his grasp to Lee's knees and lifted up. Riley joined Patterson, as Lee was pulled up and out of the module.

He tried to clench his teeth against the pain as the two seamen lowered him down the side of the module to Frank and John, who lowered him to the deck, and into the clutches of the chief medical officer.

"Hey Jamie," he ground out as Jamison leaned over him with a stethoscope. Jamie answered with a glare as he listened to Crane's heart and lungs. His gaze moved rapidly over the burnt arm, and then to the temple bandage. He removed the stethoscope and looked sternly at Crane.

"All right, burnt arm, possible slight concussion, and borderline hypothermia aside, how are your decompression symptoms?"

"Joint pains, intermittent loss of feeling from about my navel down, tingling in the hands, and I'm starting to feel nauseous," Lee reeled off the symptoms. This was no time to stonewall Jamie on the facts. He wanted to get his life back, and he couldn't do that from a wheelchair, or a pine box.

"Let's get you to the chamber, we'll take care of the rest later." Jamie stood, and motioned the corpsmen to the ends of the stretcher that Lee had been laid on. He smiled down at Crane briefly as he pulled a warm blanket over him. "Welcome home Skipper."

"Thanks Jamie."

The two corpsmen lifted the stretcher, and headed out of the compartment.

Chip, having pulled himself out of the module, climbed down beside Jamie.

"Jamie?" he asked

"I don't know. He's presenting all the regular symptoms. You know as well as I do that the results are variable. He could still throw an embolism, or have a stroke. The paralysis could be temporary or permanent. We won't know until we put him through the full course in the hypobaric chamber. I see some skin mottling on his right hand. We should know for sure in the next two hours, that's the usual timeframe for any additional symptoms to present." He headed toward the hatchway leading to the corridor. "I'll keep you updated. I'll be in the chamber to start, and then Frank will stay through the compression and decompression. Let me know when the Bell gets here?"

"Sure, Jamie," Chip replied and watched as the doctor disappeared. He wanted to go hover by the decompression chamber, but his duty was elsewhere. "Patterson, Riley, finish securing the module and then report to the missile room. The Bell will be coming up soon, you can help there."

After getting the acknowledgement from the men Chip left for the control room to check on the Bell's progress, and update the Admiral whom he knew had heard the radio exchange. It was going to be a long two hours.

**Chapter 20-The Bell**

Nelson had listened as Lee contacted the _Seaview_ and reported his problem. He had calmly explained to the scientists what was going on, and very clinically described the possible effects that Lee could suffer as a result.

"I should have insisted he leave as soon as we connected to the Bell. He could have made it then with out hurrying. Maybe the oxygen recycler could have kept going without the extra strain. But I was foolish and wanted to finish the journey all together," Renate Knopf sobbed, burying her face in her husband's chest.

"You knew about the recycler being damaged in the science module?" Nelson asked her. He noticed that the other scientists where looking at her in puzzlement. "But the rest of you didn't?" he added to them. There were shaking heads all around and they all looked at Renate who pulled herself together quickly.

"That happened when we were caught in the avalanche. The oxygen levels started to drop, then they stabilized at a lower than nominal level. I could see the gauge. No one else could. I had talked to Hans, the regular pilot, about the back up system. I knew what had happened. There were only two things that could go on. It would work, and we would be OK or it wouldn't and we would die. Lee didn't say anything. He just switched the systems. He wouldn't leave. He couldn't leave. I thought we would make it. Everyone would be safe, and Lee would be safe and no one need know what he had done. He didn't want them to. And now he may have to pay the price for our lives. He could be crippled, die." She sniffed again, and Dieter gripped her hand tightly.

"We don't know that the system would have remained working; even if Lee had left after hooking up with the Bell he could have had the same problem, maybe even worse. You can't second-guess the past. I can tell you that if anyone can come out of this unscathed it will be Lee Crane. He's in very good shape, and is, despite all evidence to the contrary, the luckiest man I have ever known. He has come through some things that frankly we didn't expect him to survive." Sharkey and Kowalski were nodding vigorously.

"Yeah," said Kowalski, "the Skipper, he'll be fine. He's not gonna let something like this get him down, keep him from coming back to the_Seaview_. Now that we found him and all that is."

Everyone in the Bell was silent for a few moments. They continued to listen to the radio exchanges, and then waited as the module reached the boat.

"Bell this is Morton," came over the radio at long last. Nelson grabbed the mike quickly, almost removing Kowalski's head with his elbow in the process.

"Go ahead Chip."

"We have Lee." There was a mass sigh of relief in the Bell. "Jamie has taken him to the hyperbaric chamber. He has a burned arm, a bandaged head, and is showing symptoms of decompression disease. There's a two-hour window for symptoms to develop. You'll be here by then. Fifteen more minutes and we'll be ready to bring you in. Since you've hit all the decompression stops, Doc says everyone should be good to go. Do you have any injuries he needs to know about?"

"One possibly broken arm, and some bumps and bruises. I think Frank or John can take care of most of it until Jamie is free. I assume he won't be staying inside the chamber."

"No sir, they are pressuring the main chamber up now, and Jamie will decompress out after the two hour window passes. Frank is going to stay in with Lee for the long run. John is staying out and is standing by. I'm sure he can do the x-rays and bandaging."

"Good, Good. We'll see you in a while then. Nelson out." Nelson carefully replaced the mike, and shared a smile with the other occupants of the Bell. "Well, so far so good. We'll be on _Seaview_ in a few minutes. You can all get a shower and some clean cloths and we'll have you on the surface within an hour. _Seaview's_ guest facilities are somewhat limited, but the quartermaster is always able to come up with something that will do."

"We appreciate your help Admiral. If we haven't said it before, we all are extremely grateful for you and your crew. No one else could get here in time, and if your _Seaview_ hadn't been nearby it would have been ... most unpleasant for us," Renate said

"Dr. Knopf has a talent for understatement," the tall, slim dark haired man who had be introduced as Dr. Soren Provost said, smiling. "We were on the edge of the abyss… well actually at the bottom of the abyss… and your coming is like getting a royal flush when you are down to your last dollar. If it hadn't been necessary to keep the up stoic Swiss adventurer reputation that I have cultivated over the years, I would have been sobbing hysterically for the last 15 hours. We are _very_ grateful indeed!"

Everyone laughed, and Dieter Knopf said, "Stoic Swiss adventurer? I am sure that I would have heard something about that in the last several years had this been so Soren. Surely someone has misled you as to how we all see you!"

More laughter, and the scientists began tossing friendly insults among themselves in several languages. Nelson, a slight smile on his face, sat back and let the talk flow around him. His mind was, however, on the _Seaview_, in the small hyperbaric chamber where Lee Crane was fighting the effects of decompression disease as the pressure was raised to equal the tremendous depths that he had just escaped. The nitrogen bubbles that had formed in his blood as he surfaced had not been allowed time to be properly processed out of the lungs, and now he had to go through the process again, with all the proper stops, and with extended time spent at those stops to allow for his body to correct the problem.

The question was how much damage had been done already, and what else could happen in that dark two-hour window? Nelson knew too well the effects. Had seen his share of victims, had felt the pains in his joints himself. He desperately wanted to speak with Lee, privately. He turned his head as Kowalski cleared his throat and spoke quietly below the other voices.

"Admiral, I know this is maybe not my business, but is the Skipper coming back? I mean as Captain. He's not gonna go off with these folks again is he?" The seaman's anxious face was hopeful as he awaited Nelson's answer.

Sharkey, seated on the other side of Kowalski, elbowed him in the side. "Shut-up ya knucklehead. That's between the Admiral and the Skipper. When you need to know something, they'll tell me and I'll tell you. Right Sir?" This last he addressed to the Admiral, though there was a question in his eyes as well. Nelson could only guess at the level of guilt that Sharkey had been feeling about Lee's sudden departure form the _Seaview_, and their inability to locate him for so long.

"Chief, Kowalski, I can't speak for Captain Crane of course, but if I have anything to say about it then he'll be staying on the _Seaview_."

A huge smile shown from Sharkey's face, and he slapped Kowalski on the knee, "See I told ya! The Skipper will be back before ya know it and everything will be Jake." He glanced at the chronometer, and then the Admiral. Still with the smile, he said, "We should be docking in about 3 minutes sir."

Everything was right with Sharkey's world as far as he was concerned, Nelson saw. The Admiral had said the Skipper was coming back, and that was that. There was no question of possible permanent damage from the decompression sickness, or that Lee might have other plans. Nelson wished he could be as optimistic. Glancing at Kowalski, he could see that the seaman wasn't as ready as the Chief to take everything for granted, but he saw a slight smile pass over the thin features, and acknowledged it with one of his own.

"We'll see what we can do Kowalski," he said quietly

**Chapter 21-the **_**Seaview**_**-Hyperbaric chamber**

Lee lay back on the bed in the chamber as the spasm of pain in his right leg slowly faded. He was still experiencing the intermittent paralysis, punctuated by periods of pain. But as the pressure levels had gone up the symptoms had started to fade, and he was starting to feel a lot better. He rolled his head to the side to meet Jamie's concerned eyes.

"That wasn't fun. I'm not sure I don't prefer the numbness." He started to raise his right hand to scratch at the stitches that Jamie had put into the gash on his temple, but found the hand, and the attached I.V. line trapped by Jamie's firm hand.

"Leave them alone," Jamie said in a no nonsense tone for the third of forth time since the local anesthetic he had used for the stitches had worn off.

"They itch, Jamie," Lee protested.

"I'm sure they do, and you can look forward to them itching more in the days to come," was Jamie's cheerful answer. He reached for the blood pressure cuff that Frank was holding out, and started to take another reading.

Lee sighed, and waited for Jamie to finish. "How long now?" he asked.

Jamie glanced at a clock over the hatchway. "Another 30 minutes." He checked the dressing on Crane's left arm, and then gently placed a hand on top of the blankets that covered his left leg. He had been swathed in blankets to bring his body temperature up, and he was just now getting to a point that was comfortable. "How's the sensitivity? Still painful?"

"No, I think that's gone away. It felt like Chip was trying to rip off both legs at the knee in the module, but now there's nothing unusual."

Jamie examined his face closely to be sure he was getting the whole story.

"Really, Jamie," Lee said seriously. Not that he hadn't shaded the truth about the level of pain previously, or just how scared he had been when the paralysis had set in for almost 15 minutes when they had first gotten him into the chamber. But nothing could be done about the paralysis, and he didn't want all those painkillers messing up his brain. He could handle it, especially now that the symptoms were subsiding.

"All right then Cap… uh Lee, " Jamie stumbled over the title. There had been a short but decisive conversation shortly after they had gotten in the chamber about how Jamie should address Crane. Lee had been adamant. He was _not_ the captain of the _Seaview_. He had resigned the position. He also was no longer a Commander, as he had also resigned his commission with the Navy. There for, as far as Jamie should be concerned he was _Mr_. Crane, or just plain Lee. Jamie had grumbled something under his breath, that Lee, who had been experiencing one of the slicing bits of agony in his right knee joint, had missed most of, though he was sure that he had heard reference to a stubborn member of the equine family. "I think we are past the worst of it. You're in good shape, if underweight," another bone of contention, discussed at length previously, and loudly, to the not so discrete amusement of Frank. "You've never had a severe case of decompression sickness before, and you haven't presented anything new in the last 90 minutes. Your previous symptoms have begun fading now that we are at depth. I don't feel I would be going out on a limb to predict that a full recovery, with no permanent damage."

Lee nodded as Jamie continued, "You and Frank here will be going through the rest of the decompression course alone. I'll be back if necessary, but I think Frank can take care of your needs and continue to monitor your progress and keep me informed."

Lee nodded, and closed his eyes. He was getting very sleepy now that the temperature was more comfortable. "Thank I'll catch a nap," he said, and then popped open one eye to glare at Frank and Jamie, "Unless you're planning on more poking and prodding that is, then I won't bother."

"I'll just have Frank inject it in your IV," Jamie said with an evil look.

Lee harrumphed and closed his eye. He tried to get as comfortable as possible with an IV in one arm, nitrogen bubbles running rampant through his blood stream, and two medical people hovering over him. It was good to be home.

**Chapter 22-The **_**Seaview**_

They had surfaced, and off-loaded the scientists onto the _Meer_, and now were standing by alongside the research ship. Renate Knopf, and a large number of the research and ship staff had wanted to know how Lee was doing, and have a chance to say goodbye. Nelson, willing to believe that Lee _would_ be choosing to return to the _Seaview_, had agreed to stand by until Lee was out of the hyperbaric chamber, and able to have visitors.

Upon the Bell's return John, and later Jamie, had looked over the scientists from the Bell, and had cleared them all as ok, except for a broken wrist, and assorted bumps and bruises. Nelson had waited until all the activity was done, and then, with an anxious Chip in tow, had gone to Jamie's office.

"Come in Admiral, Chip," Jamie had said, looking up from a thick file, and see the two men hovering outside his hatchway. "I was just finishing a notation in our favorite captain's file."

"How is he Jamie?" Nelson asked as he and Chip sat in the chairs in front of Jamison's desk. Both unconsciously perched on the edges of the chairs awaiting the answer, a fact that amused Jamie, but he managed to keep the smile off his face.

"In typical Lee Crane fashion he managed to trump the broken wrist in the research module with border-line hypothermia, an arm with second and third degree burns, a head injury with 5 stitches and a slight concussion, and a near textbook case of decompression sickness. The hypothermia resolved itself once we got him in a warm room with some blankets. The second and third degree burns we salved and bandaged with the 'NuSkin' developed at the Institute. They should heal with no problem, and leave minimal scarring. We'll be watching for infection. The concussion will go like every other concussion he's had. That hard head comes in handy for some things." Jamie paused as he reached the last medical problem, and the two other men, who had started to relax back into their chairs rose back up onto the edges. "The decompression sickness is something else. I can't give you a definitive answer until he gets out of the chamber and we get him on his feet." He glanced at the clock. "The cycle is almost done now, another hour and 20 minutes. After that we'll bring him into sickbay and evaluate his condition. He had the regular joint pains, in his case mainly in the legs, hips, and lower spine. He had some intermittent paralysis, and sensitivity in the lower extremities but those faded as we got him down to depth, and have not reappeared. As to what we can expect once he's out, it remains to be seen. I don't have to tell either of you about the unpredictability of decompression sickness. As of now I am optimistic that he will have no lasting problems."

Both men relaxed back into the chairs, and Jamie had to fight to keep another grin off his face. Nelson cleared his throat and spoke to his Chief Medical Officer. "Would it be all right if we go see him, or would it be best to wait until he is out?" He didn't want to hamper Lee's recovery. Stress would not be good.

"I understand that you both want to talk to him, I have a few things I'd like to say to him myself, but I'd prefer that you wait until he is out of the chamber. I want him to sleep as much as possible now, while I have some chance of keeping him still. I have a feeling that once he's loose, Captain or not, he'll be wondering around the boat like usual, and he won't get any rest." Jamie noticed Nelson and Chip both looked puzzled. "What?" he asked.

"Captain or not?" Chip asked, and Nelson nodded, agreeing that Chip had hit on the subject of his puzzlement.

"_Mr_. Crane informed me upon being addressed as 'Captain' that he was no longer entitled to that or any other rank or position that he formally held with the Navy or N.I.M.R. "

"He's an idiot," Chip muttered, slumping down into the chair. "He's not going to make this easy you know." He addressed this last to Nelson.

Nelson snorted. "When has anything been easy with him? He has a mule beat for stubborn."

Jamie didn't hide his smile this time. "That may be a quality he shares with a major portion of the command crew, if I may say so."

"You just did," Chip quipped, and frowned in pretend annoyance.

"I know that things went on that you two can't mention. I think I know most of it." He held up a hand to stop an explanation that seemed to be forthcoming from Chip. "I don't need to know. I have read Lee's medical charts from when he was a child, and I have seen his psych evaluation, both for the Navy and for N.I.M.R.. He has problems with intimacy. He had no truly healthy relationship until he was in his late teens, and as intelligent as he is, you can't rationalize feelings. It is obvious to anyone who spends any time with the three of you that he has deep feelings for you both."

Nelson and Chip both fidgeted in their seats and avoided looking at each other, keeping their attention on Jamison instead.

"He shows his feelings through his actions, as most men do, and he takes his cues regarding how others feel about him from _their_ actions."

"And we let him down," Chip said, regret shinning from his eyes.

"He didn't really see it that way," Jamison said holding up a hand as Nelson started to speak. "I mean that. He wouldn't have blamed you. He's had years to build up the pathology that he deserves what he gets. _He's_ responsible." All the men smiled slightly at that familiar phrase.

"In other words if we do something that makes him think that we don't... like him, or trust him, it's his fault, something he's done?" Nelson said his mind tracking on what Jamie was saying. "He's always been an over achiever."

Jamie nodded. "He had to be the best. The people around him let him know in a subtle fashion that he was only worthwhile to them as long as he was the best at what _they_ wanted him to be. The best student, the best athlete, the best commander, the best agent."

"The best son," Nelson interrupted.

Jamie nodded again. A silence settled over the three men as they each contemplated this new information, and evaluated their relationship with the enigma that was Lee Crane.

"So, how do we make him see that we don't care what he does? That we don't care if he isn't Superman?" Chip asked.

"Talk to him. Tell him. It will be uncomfortable for all of you I know, but not talking is what got him to the point of leaving. Drove him to the extreme of changing his name, his whole life, rather than face what he perceived to be the failure of being Lee Crane. As far as he is concerned, _he_ failed _you_. Your job, which I don't envy, will be to convince him that he didn't. That how you feel about him hasn't changed, regardless of what you might have been ordered to do."

Nelson and Morton exchanged glances.

"One at a time or together?" Chip asked. He wasn't sure exactly how to tell his friend what he needed to know, but he was ready.

"I think Lee would appreciate it if we tackled this one-on-one rather than in a group." Nelson rose to his feet. "You'll let us know when he's out?"

Jamie nodded.

"Thank you." Jamie knew Nelson was thanking him for more than just the notification, and smiled at the Admiral.

Morton also rose and started to follow Nelson out of the office. He paused at the hatchway, and smiled back at Jamie. "You realize that once he's back it won't be so quiet down here any more?"

"I'll take that chance, Commander."

"Thanks Jamie," Chip said sincerely as he left.

Jamie sat back in his chair. He had done all he could to push them in the right direction. It was now up to them, and Lee Crane.

**Chapter 23-Hypobaric Chamber **

Nelson stood outside the hypobaric chamber and looked through the small window at Lee's sleeping face. When he had entered the room five minutes earlier Frank had acknowledged him through the small window with a smile, and went back to listening to something on his headset attached to a cassette player. Lee had been in the chamber for just over 5 hours now.

Lee seemed to be sleeping deeply. Even as Nelson had watched Frank had glanced up at the clock in the chamber and moving carefully had taken Lee's blood pressure. He hadn't moved a muscle. Nelson was amused at the amount of hair his captain seemed to have grown in the last two months. Lee was usually so meticulous about keeping his haircut exceedingly short; a style Nelson had heard Chip describe as 'shorn to the skin'. Now he could see why Lee was so insistent on the shorter cut. With the long black curls contrasting on the white pillow, asleep and curled partly on his side, Lee Crane, captain of the mightiest submarine on the planet, O.N.I. undercover agent extraordinaire, looked about 10 years old. Nelson couldn't hold back a smile at the thought. Chip would have a field day with this. He was tempted to get a picture himself, for future blackmail purposes.

The cycle would be complete in 10 more minutes. He knew that Jamie would be along soon, to make a final evaluation before moving Lee to the sickbay. It would no doubt be the regular battle of wills regarding how long Lee would stay there at that point, and after that it was anyone's guess as to where Lee would go.

Nelson had not been able to stay away any longer. He had worked through exactly what he wanted to say to the younger man, but was now chaffing at the wait. Once he knew what he wanted, he was used to just going ahead and doing it. That was one of the things he valued Lee for. He had tempered Nelson's impulsive plunge-ahead nature. Always concerned about the safety of the boat, the safety of the crew, and Nelson's own safety. He was never afraid of going head-on with Nelson when those impulses got out of control. Not that it always worked, but then he had always been around to pick up the pieces when it all went to hell, usually at a cost to himself. What an incredible thing to have the devotion of someone who was willing to die for your ideals, even if ill advised. He would have to be cautious of that. It was a great responsibility.

"Couldn't wait, Admiral?" Jamie had appeared through the hatchway, and smiled at Nelson.

"My experiments happened to be at a point that I could leave them," Nelson said with a straight face. Jamie's grin indicated that he wasn't buying it.

"Let's go see what we have." The cycle complete light flashed over the hatchway of the chamber.

Jamie spun the wheel, and pulled the hatch open. As he moved forward toward the pallet where Crane lay, Frank met him with the clipboard and the latest information. After a brief consultation, Jamie moved to Crane's side and gently shook his shoulder.

"Time to rise and shine, Skipper," he said.

Lee slowly surfaced from the depths of sleep. It had felt so good to just let go and be able to sleep, and it was so warm. He didn't know how long he had slept, but it hadn't been near long enough.

"You couldn't just leave me here for a few more hours? I just got comfortable."

"No. We're moving into the sickbay. I'll even let you walk there." Jamie tried to make it sound like a treat.

"Sickbay, why sickbay? We're on the surface, why can't I go to my quarters on the _Meer_?"

Nelson winced. Lee trying to avoid sickbay was not unseen, but it seemed he wanted to leave. He also had to shake his head a he realized that even in a hypobaric chamber, ill from decompression sickness, and asleep, Lee still knew exactly what his boat was doing. The ability spoke of a bond between man and machine that was unheard of in all of Nelson's experience. He had seen the man rag Chip about why they had slowed from half speed to one quarter-speed when he was doped to the eyeballs, and just about to pass out from pain. Amazing.

"I need to take a look at the stitches, put some more cream on the burns, and generally make sure we haven't missed anything."

Nelson could almost hear it coming.

"I'm fine Jamie, I don't need…"

Jamie let out a strangled sound somewhere between a scream of frustration and laughter. "It's been two months since I've heard that Cap… Lee. I didn't miss it! You said you wanted to sleep some more. I have several nice bunks in the sickbay, and you don't have to travel much to get to them. A trip to the _Meer_ would require a trip in a dingy, and climbing up the side of the ship. Not something that is conductive to a restful feeling. We'll be here for a while. You can get the sleep you need, eat something, and then you can think about going back."

Nelson waited, not realizing he was holding his breath until he let it out when he heard Lee's reply.

"All right Jamie. I am tired, and I share quarters on the _Meer_. It probably wouldn't be easy to get to sleep there. My bunk is on the bulkhead where the hatch is. But only until I get rested up, then I'm out of there and I get to walk there right?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go. I am so tired, I feel like I could sleep for a week."

Nelson turned and left the outer chamber. Lee needed sleep, not talk right now. He'd have to wait.

**Chapter 24-Sickbay **

Chip entered the sickbay quietly, having heard form Nelson that Lee had gone there to sleep. He had also heard form the Admiral that Lee had suggested going back to the _Meer_. Chip had determined at that point that his friend was not leaving this boat. Chip was acting captain, and he'd lock Lee in the brig if necessary. That had been several hours ago, and it was now just after midnight. Chip had gone off duty several hours earlier, but sleep would not come, and he had decided that he could wait for Lee to awaken in sickbay just as well as in his cabin. Also, this way he could ignore the ever growing pile of paperwork on his desk that much longer.

As he moved toward Lee's bunk, he waved to John who was seated at Jamie's desk reading a medical book. John grinned at him, and went back to his reading. A chair had been placed at the side of the bunk, and Chip smiled as he wondered who had had the foresight to have one ready. He was sure that John and Frank, and possibly Jamie had a bet going about who would show up first, the Admiral or Chip.

He looked at his friend in the dim light. Lee looked a lot better than he had several hours ago, after they had pulled him from that module, but Chip could still see the effects of the last two months on the youthful face of his friend. He was definitely thinner, and more tanned than usual. The life of a submariner didn't lend itself to tanning. Chip had always said that it was his responsibility to take care of Lee. That was part of being a good XO. That was part of being a friend, a brother. Ever since he had first seen the skinny, way too intelligent, 17 year old as a fellow 1st year midshipman he had felt something inside that said, 'brother'. The fact that Lee desperately needed an older brother figure had helped of course, though Lee still didn't acknowledge his greater wisdom that came from the year and a half age difference that separated them.

"You just going to sit there all night in the dark, or are you going to make yourself useful and loan me some clothes?"

Chip started as the voice came from the bunk, startling him form his memories. "If some people could stay out of trouble, I could be sleeping in my own cabin at this hour."

"No one was stopping you. I was just sleeping. No trouble. What's your excuse?" Lee sat up and swung his long legs over the side of the bunk. They were face to face in the dim room.

"I want to talk to you Lee." No more humor. Time to get down to it.

"I know Chip. Let me start by saying I'm sorry. I blew everything out of proportion. I was selfish and childish. And I'm... sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Lee. I understand why you left. I know how you grew up. _I'm_ sorry that I never let you know how I thought of you. Put it down to that old manly 'hide your feelings' thing or whatever, but I just thought you'd know. My sisters know I love them, even if I don't say it. They know because they are my sisters, and I expected you to know for the same reason."

"Because you think of me as a sister?"

"Don't be a smart ass Lee, it doesn't become you," Chip said, happy to see Lee's smile once again. He had missed it. "No, I think of you as a brother. One that's always been there, and knows how I feel."

"I've always appreciated how your family took me in, how _you_ took me in. I never had that, I dreamed if it though. When I met you, and your family, that was the first time someone seemed to want me around for me just being me."

"That's all we want Lee. What you are, what you do doesn't matter to me, to my family." Chip took a deep breath. "I love you, Lee. Don't forget it, and don't ever disappear again, or I'll find you and kick your ass."

"You and what army?"

"You've met my mom."

"Okay! Okay! No need to get out the big guns. _Her_, I'm scared of." Lee smiled and then sighed. "I really screwed things up Chip. I resigned my commission. I resigned from O.N.I, and I resigned from the Institute. O.N.I. will take me back…"

"Why would you want them to?" Chip interrupted, not bothering to hide his feelings about Lee's extracurricular activities with the intelligence agency.

Lee went on like he hadn't heard. "Once they determine that I haven't been turned or anything, they'll pull strings with the Navy and get me reinstated. But the Admiral, he's another thing all together. I hurt him Chip, badly. I don't see why he'd take me back."

"I can't speak for him Lee. I know he was hurt, yes. Like I was, but not just for what you did to us. It was also for what we did to _you_. We both should have taken it another step when the orders came. In retrospect I can see that there were holes in the story, and I should have seen them. The Admiral knows even more than I do, and feels that much worse. Give him a chance, and he'll give you one, I'm sure of it." He reached out and patted Lee's leg. "Let's go see what we can find you to wear. I think I still have some of your stuff left over from when we went camping last time."

Lee nodded, and blinked his eyes rapidly before he rose to his feet and joined Chip heading for the hatch. He hadn't lost Chip. His friend was still there. It wasn't everything, but it was a start.

**Chapter 24-Officer's Wardroom-0600**

Lee sat at the table nursing a cup of coffee. He wasn't really hungry, though Cookie, who had enthusiastically greeted him on his appearance, continued to try to tempt him into eating something. He had finally taken one of the freshly baked muffins, and had nibbled at it when Cookie glanced in his direction. Most of it still sat in front of him.

He was having a hard time believing the greetings he had received from the _Seaview's_ crew. Man after man had gone out of their way to say hello, and welcome back. He had not corrected the assumption that he would be returning. He wished so much that it was the foregone conclusion that the crew believed. Chip, who had gone on duty at 0600, had smirked at him after each man had stopped them on their way to the wardroom, and had patted his back as he left for the control room. "Now maybe you'll believe me when I say you were missed. See you later."

Now for the Admiral, Lee wasn't sure if he should go to the older man's cabin, wait for him here in the wardroom, or just make his way back to the _Meer_ and wait for the Admiral's summons. Nelson had a right to be upset with him, and Lee wouldn't blame him for taking his time. He decided on the last, at least he could see how the rest of the_Anemone's_ crew was doing. Chip had told him that they had requested that the_Seaview_ remain until Lee had recovered, a request Nelson had granted, so that they could say thank you and goodbye. Once again assumptions were being made that Lee hoped were right. He needed to see them, try to explain. Chip would arrange a boat for him.

"You probably think you've escaped my clutches permanently don't you?"

"Uh-oh,"Lee thought. He turned up the innocent smile, and raised his head to look at Jamison. "Of course not Jamie. I was going to stop by when I finished my breakfast." He held up the plate with the muffin remains.

Jamie sneered at the pitiful pile of crumbs that had once been a blueberry muffin. He doubted Crane had swallowed enough to keep a bird satisfied, but that was a battle for another time. "I need some final readings, and to take a look at those burns. We wouldn't want an infection getting started would we?"

"I was going to go back over to the _Meer_ and… see to some things. Can it wait until later?"

"Why don't we get it over with now? It'll only take about 10 minutes. Mr. Morton can get the skiff ready to take you across, and you won't have to worry about coming back later." Jamie had learned to be tenacious. With Lee Crane it was necessary. Let him dodge once, and you would never see him again.

Lee shrugged, recognizing Jamison's mood. He wasn't going to get out of it. "Let me call Chip." Jamie waved him toward the hatch.

**Chapter 25-**_**Seaview**_**'s deck. 0630**

Chip watched as Kowalski climbed into the skiff and waited for Lee to board. He turned and looked at his friend. They had talked long into the night, and Chip had found himself yawning at the chart table this morning. They had worked everything out, leaving nothing unsaid to come up later. They had found a pair of Lee's jeans mixed in with Chip's off duty clothes, but the rest of what Lee was wearing were all Chip's, and they hung on Lee's thin frame like a scarecrow's. He had to call on all his Executive Officer impassiveness not to snicker at the thought. Lee shot him a dirty look, seeming to read his mind.

"You coming back?" Chip asked, mentally crossing his fingers.

"When he sends for me. I'm not going to force myself on him. It's his choice."

"He wants you back Lee."

"Maybe. We'll see. Can Ski stay on the _Meer_?"

"Hedging your bets?"

"Well, he might leave without me out of anger, but he won't leave a crewman behind."

"I think we can spare him for a while. I'll put him on detached duty for helping on the _Anemone_."

"Thanks Chip." He held out a hand. "Just in case. I'll stay in touch. I promise."

"You better, I warned you."

They exchanged grins, and Lee climbed in to the skiff. Chip watched as it moved off to the _Meer_. Was Nelson reluctant to talk to Lee? He hadn't put in an appearance yet, and Chip was beginning to wonder if he had read the Admiral's desire for Lee to return incorrectly. No, that just wasn't Nelson. He had quirks, but torturing friends with uncertainty wasn't one of them. There had to be another reason for his continued absences. He watched as a line was tossed from the Meer to the skiff. Then he went below. He needed another cup of coffee.

**Chapter 26- Nelson's cabin 0730**

Harriman Nelson rolled over in his bunk, and groaned as he looked at the clock on his desk. He had overslept. He had meant to tackle Lee at breakfast. He knew Chip had the morning shift, and didn't want to give Lee a chance to go back to the _Meer_. When he had come into the sickbay this morning around 0100 he had found out from John that Chip had come in a little after midnight, and after a quiet talk he and Lee had escaped to points unknown. Not wanting to interfere in that talk he had resigned himself to more waiting, and had gone to bed, fully planning to be up and about by 0600.

He rose and showered, donned a fresh uniform, and ventured toward the wardroom. No one was there but Cookie fussing in the galley at one of his men. When he saw the Admiral helping himself to a cup of coffee and filling his plate from the buffet of breakfast foods, he came forward and wished him a good morning.

"Good morning," Nelson replied, seating himself with his tray. "Did I miss Commander Morton and…" How did he refer to Lee? The man had resigned, but everyone, including himself, still saw Lee as the captain of _Seaview_. In the end it didn't matter as Cookie took over the conversation at that point. Nelson just decided to eat his breakfast as Cookie went on.

"Commander Morton and Captain Crane were here earlier. The Skipper didn't eat much, as usual." Cookie scowled at that, he always took the captain's eating habits personally. "He looked real skinny, Sir. Don't they feed no one on those research ships? It'll take me a month to get him back up to speed, and he'll still be too skinny. I was making progress before he went. You could see that couldn't you Admiral?" He didn't even pause to allow Nelson to reply. "I thought the doc was gonna make him eat, but he just hauled him off to sickbay. Then he goes and leaves the boat. Now I know it ain't my business, but..."

The cook nattered on, but Nelson wasn't listening. Lee had left the boat. He had gone back to the _Meer_. Back to the other life he had built. Nelson had lost him. _No_, that wasn't going to happen. He would haul the man back in irons if necessary!

He pounded a fist on the table, startling Cookie to a halt, and bringing the galley assistants to the window with questioning looks. He surged to his feet, his face taking on that determined look that made many a subordinate officer quail. Ignoring the rest of his breakfast he stalked from the room.

Cookie watched him go, then turned and looked at his helpers. "See, I told you the Admiral would get him back. Now get working on that casserole, it's one of the Skippers favorites, and I want it just right for dinner."

Nelson stalked through the companionways of his boat like a compact whirlwind. Crewmen removed themselves from his path with alacrity, not wanting to be trampled under his determined feet. He emerged into the control room through the aft hatch, and the duty crew could feel the waves of anger coming off the man.

Nelson moved forward with the same determined pace, as he passed the chart table he shot a dark look at Morton, "Join me in the nose, Mr. Morton," he growled, and kept moving toward the nose. Chip and O'Brien exchanged looks, and Chip followed the Admiral after handing over the Con. A curt order had him closing the crash doors. Nelson stood looking out of the windows as they waited for the doors to close. As they came to a halt he turned like a tiger.

"What did you say to Lee?!" he growled at Chip, moving to stand toe to toe with the taller man. Their height difference was of no consequence to Nelson, and Chip found himself taking a step back at the unexpected aggressive stance.

"What?" Confused.

"Lee left the boat! What did you say to him to make him leave?"

Chip felt his face flush, and a flash of anger. Nelson thought he had driven Lee off. "Not that it is any of your business, _Sir_, but Lee and I had a very good talk, and I did not 'make him leave'. That seems to be your prerogative," he replied with all the restraint he could muster.

"And what does that mean?" Nelson roared.

"I talked to him last night when he woke up. Spent most of the night talking to him. I left him in the wardroom to go on duty, and he decided to go back to the _Meer_ since you were obviously holding a grudge and wanted to make him sweat it out," Chip said acidicly. "I told him he was wrong, that you wanted him back. I guess I was wrong." He locked eyes with the Admiral. Years of watching Lee go toe to toe with Nelson had taught him when to back down from the owner of the _Seaview_, and when to stand his ground. As he watched the anger drained from Nelson's blue eyes to be replaced with regret, and sorrow.

"He thinks I would do that to him? Treat him like that?" The words were said quietly, and were filled with pain. Chip found himself regretting not what he had said, but the manner in which he had said it. "He thinks you deserve the right to make your own decision about taking him back. That you shouldn't be pressured by what I want, or the crew wants, or even what Lee wants. He wanted to give you the option."

"Damn him."

"Yeah, stubborn. Wonder where he got that from?"

Nelson smiled, and shook his head. "I'm sorry Chip. I got carried away when I heard he had left, I…"

Chip held up a hand. "I understand Admiral. I didn't want him to go either. But he wants to come back. He knows that ONI will take him back, and they'll pull strings with the Navy. I wish I could say he was wrong there. You're the big question in his mind. He isn't sure how you feel about what he did."

"Yes I want him back, damn it! I would have spoken to him this morning, but I overslept." Nelson paced around the nose. "He's right about ONI. They would do almost anything to get him back. Smith was already sounding me out to find out if I was going to take him back, or if he could get his claws into Lee full time. As if I would allow_that_."

Chip smothered a grin at Nelson's tone. The only person who hated Lee's side trips for ONI more than him was Nelson. "He's on the _Meer_, packing, and waiting for your call. He'll come back as soon as you call, Ski is standing by there with the skiff."

"No," Nelson said, then when Chip looked at him in surprise, he waved a hand. "I don't mean I won't talk to him. I mean I'll go to him. I want to talk to him privately, and I think he may be more comfortable on neutral territory so to speak. Have Kowalski come and pick me up." Nelson started for the stairs, and paused at the base.

"Chip, I am sorry. I know he's your friend, and I should have never thought that you would drive him away."

"Thank you Admiral. Just put it down to an unusual situation and too little sleep."

"That's generous of you Chip. But it was still wrong of me. We've had enough problems with miscommunication, we don't need more. I apologize." He smiled and went up the spiral stairs.

"Thank you, Sir," Chip called after him, and then went back toward the control room to call for Kowalski.

**Chapter 27-The **_**Meer**_**-Mess hall/meeting room**

Lee and Renate Knopf sat at one of the small tables farthest away from the door. Their heads were close together, and they had been speaking quietly together for almost an hour. Dieter Knopf, Soren Provost, his arm in a cast, and several other of the research crew sat at one of the large tables, deep in discussions about future projects. Nelson stood at the door for a moment, Kowalski hovering over his shoulder, and just looked at Lee.

Crane was leaning forward and speaking earnestly to Renate. He looked healthy, and Nelson once again had to smile at the riot of dark curls that Lee had unsuccessfully attempted to hide under a black watch cap. He was not sure if he should interrupt, or just get a cup of coffee and wait when Dieter Knopf noticed him.

"Admiral!" Knopf's enthusiastic greeting rang through the room, and everyone's attention turned to the slight. "I did not know you were coming. I would have met you."

"Not to worry Dieter. It was a spur of the moment visit." Even as he offered his hand to Knopf, Nelson didn't take his eyes off Lee. Dieter noted the direction of Nelsons gaze, and smile slightly.

"Perhaps you have come to pick up a lost item?" he said quietly as they shook hands. Nelson's light blue eyes turned to him questioningly. "Lee told us some of what happened. If he were a part of my permanent crew I would not let him go without a fight. I expect nothing less of you." Knopf's dark eyes were understanding. "Also, we have not been blessed with children, my Renate and I, but we have had the good fortune to find a 'child of the heart'. We rejoice in her achievements and cry at her sorrows. We have been blessed, as have you I think."

Harry nodded, and turned to find Lee looking at him. His golden hazel eyes were expressionless.

"Hello Admiral. I didn't know you were coming over," he said rising to his feet. Nelson noticed he was still limping a little, no doubt from the residual joint pains.

"I wanted to talk to you. I thought perhaps some neutral ground…?" Nelson let the statement trail off.

Lee nodded and motioned to the hatchway. "I know just the place. Fresh air and a good view."

The two men left the room, and the buzz of conversation rose behind them. Dieter went to Renate and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "What do you think?"

"I can't tell about the Admiral, but I know Lee wants to return very much. The Admiral seemed very concerned in the Bell, but he is hard to read. We will have to wait and hope, for Lee's sake."

Lee led Nelson to the prow of the ship, where a bench had been welded to the rail to provide seating. There was indeed a good view and the air was fresh all right, thought Nelson as he pulled his jacket closer around himself. It was good to be out in the sun though. The two men sat, and for a few moments just stared out at the sea.

"I 'm sorry I didn't see you this morning, I ah… I overslept." Nelson offered, not looking at the younger man.

"It's okay. I needed to do some things here." A casual shrug accompanied the words, but Nelson sensed they were not casual.

"No, it's not okay. I wanted to speak with you, and I missed you. I almost bit Chip's head off when I found you had gone."

"Chip? Why would you…?"

Nelson waved it aside. "I'll explain later. For now we have other things to discuss. I want to apologize for my actions on our last cruise. I know that I apologized before, but I didn't realize the depth of the disservice I had done you then. I should have asked more questions, found out the source of the information. I made assumptions, which is not a habit I wish to get into. I hope you can forgive me for that."

"I already did Admiral. It wasn't you, it was me. I got messed up in my head. I thought…"

Nelson interrupted "Whatever you thought was correct. You deserved better, as a friend, as a... son."

Shocked hazel eyes met Nelson's, and Nelson smiled a little.

"Well that response says it all doesn't it? I should have said something before. I just thought you understood what you were to me. More than a Captain, more than a friend."

Nelson kept his eyes locked on Lee. This was too important for any mistake. "_You_ are the future of N.I.M.R., my heir. You're the son I never expected to have."

"Admiral…"

"Don't you think it could be Harry for right now? I don't expect anything to change between us when it comes to our working relationship. I'll keep pushing to do things and you'll keep reining me in. That seems to be the natural order. I do want you to know how I feel, though this may be the only time short of my deathbed that I speak of it." He finally ran to a stop, amazed that he had just blurted all that out. He now watched as a series of emotions raced across the golden eyes. What would Lee's response be? Would his gesture be rejected, had he lost everything, before he had even realized he had it?

"Harry I..." Lee had to pause and clear his throat. A large lump had formed there, making it difficult to breathe and talk. His brain was whirling in a million directions. He was scared, and happy, and sad all at once. He had waited so long to have a family, and he had almost thrown it all away because of the past. It made his stomach ache just thinking about what had almost been lost. He started again, his eyes locked on Nelson's. " I don't really know what to say. Saying 'thank you' doesn't seem enough, or quite right, but I am grateful. I haven't had a good experience in the past with family, you know some of it, but there was some stuff… It's better left in the past. But these last few years, I've had what I wanted all those years, because of Chip, because of you. I feel the same way Harry. I think of you as the father that I never had, and I can't tell you what it means to me that you think of me as a son. Proud, honored, overwhelmed. Pick one."

Lee rose to his feet, and paced back and forth before a now smiling Nelson. He came to a sudden stop, and faced the Admiral, a serious look on his face, "I hope you know I would never presume on your feelings. I don't expect anything. The Institute, the _Seaview_, they're wonderful, unbelievable, but they're yours. I don't care about what you can give me. Just you being there is all I want, need."

"I know that, Lee." Nelson said as he rose to his feet, coming to face Crane once again. "But it's you I want to take the Institute into the future, after I'm gone, you, and Chip, and after that your children. This way I know my dreams will live on through you, through them. It's a comfort to me that I thought died with Edith. As you said, 'thank you' doesn't seem quite right, or enough. I like to think we are both fortunate." He put out his hand, and smiled as Lee took it and gave a firm shake.

"I agree." He smiled also, and a gleam came into his eyes, "I understand that you have an opening on your team."

"I may have an opening for someone of your talents, perhaps we could discuss the particulars while you pack your things?"

A wide grin cut across Lee's face. "I was packed five minutes after I got back. I'll accept your terms sight unseen, let's get back to my boat!" He started aft, toward the crew quarters. "I just have to say good-by to everyone, and we can shove off."

Nelson grinned after him, and he released the breath he seemed to have been holding since he had boarded the _Meer._"I seem to recall it's my boat!" he said as he followed Lee's brisk stride, and he felt his heart soar as the sound of Lee's laughter was carried to him on the wind.

_**The End**_

The Author begs shamelessly for reviews. Even negative reviews are a form of attention!


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